If I Never Knew You
by HeroineHiding
Summary: When Dr. Nero makes a rash statement and wishes that he were no longer a teacher, a mysterious figure shows up, and takes him on a journey where he sees exactly what the world would be like without him.
1. Maximum Capacity

There were days when Dr. Maximilian Nero hated his job.

Today was one of them.

He had endured through the first half of the day without complaint, despite the toe-stubbing, cold shower, missing clothing, lack of underwear, burnt tongue, meager meal, hectic teacher meetings (four in all), misbehaving students, mysteriously vanishing lesson plans, glitch in the computer systems, emergency evacuation of the technology lab, destroyed lunch, and of course, the many near death experiences.

Now, though, he was beginning to wear thin. After all, he was only human, albeit one with more extraordinary talents and cash than the average street-goers, and was just as capable of having a rotten day.

This was beginning to feel like the most stressful event of the day yet.

Nero had spent the past forty five minutes attempting to explain a rather important lesson to the new intake of Alphas, but they did not seem to be understanding, much to his frustration. Half of them were staring blankly at the screen, practically on the verge of falling asleep, and the other half were passing notes, giggling and not paying much attention to the video being projected onto the screen. Nero groaned to himself, almost afraid to wonder if his day could get any worse. At least he could find consolation in the fact that this was the last class he was teaching that day. And that the fact that none of them had taken notes would give them all big, fat zeroes in the grade book when it was time for them to turn their notes in. Yes, Nero would enjoy that when the time came.

"Sir?" Otto Malpense poked his head into the classroom door. Nero looked up. A few of the other students did as well, recognizing the elder student as someone who was a bit of a legend around the school.

"Yes?"

"Er… Raven was wondering…"

"No."

"I didn't finish asking."

"No."

"Okay."

Otto left, looking quite confused. Nero, though, knew exactly what the question was anyway. Or… he thought he did. They had had an argument about it earlier that morning, in fact. The details were actually rather fuzzy by now, but he could remember yelling, and saying no then. He figured that he probably hadn't changed his mind in the few hours since he had last seen her. Oh well.

Nero stared at the digital clock in the lower right hand corner of his computer screen, willing the little numbers displaying the school's time to move faster. He had already dictated that the entire class would be serving three detention sessions with Colonel Francisco, and assigning them four was something Nero would have loved to do. The only thing holding him back was the fact that traditionally teachers were responsible for taking care of the detentions they had assigned. He didn't want to give Francisco four surprise detention sessions without any warning. Nero very well knew that all of the teachers had their own things to do, and spending their time punishing students was no one's favorite job. In fact, he would have been giving them detention personally, if it weren't for the meetings and other business-related activities that he had lined up for the day, and really, the rest of the week. Lucky for them.

Suddenly, Nero had an idea. An evil idea. He rather liked the thought of it. It wouldn't require much effort by any of the teachers, and it was sure to be effective. After all, teenagers were quite fond of the stuff… and it was completely within his power to enforce it.

Then again, they had calmed down quite a bit.

Still… It was a very nice idea. Nice in the sense that it would bring misery and disappointment to each and every student sitting in the classroom.

Nero's mental debate, though, was solved, when the first spitball flew. Nero had always had a particular animosity towards spitballs. They disgusted him. Slimy, germy wads of paper flying around the school. Disgusting. He absolutely would not have it.

"That's it," he said coldly, pausing the video. "Your class has dessert privileges revoked until further notice."

A few of the students' expressions remained impassive, but he could tell, one way or another, that his words had had an effect on all of his pupils. A few students slumped down, a few stared at him with anger and loathing, a few started whispering frantically to their friends.

"Silence!" Nero barked. "Or you'll have worse taken away."

The Alphas stopped speaking immediately, all their eyes trained obediently on the Smartboard screen. Nero unpaused the movie, quickly emailing the director of the kitchen staff before returning his gaze to the small clock in the corner of his computer screen. After ten minutes, the bell rang.

_MWAH! MWAH! MWAH!_

Nero had never loved the sound of the trumpet blaring more than he had in that instant. The students rushed out of the classroom, leaving Nero alone in the classroom. Nero sighed, partially in relief, partially in exhaustion. He began gathering up his supplies and empty coffee cup. He waited for the bell to ring again before he dared to venture out into the hallways—he had had enough dealings with unruly students for the day. Or at least a few hours, if it came to that. Nero hurried up to his office, stopping for a brief moment to refill his mug.

As horrible as his classes had been, the pile of paperwork sitting on Nero's desk looked almost more daunting than the students. Nero bravely took his seat in the enormous, black leather swivel chair, taking a sip of coffee and beginning to sift through the work he had laid out in front of him.

Pile one, reports. Nero always disliked reading reports. Reading summaries of his employee's incompetence was more infuriating than anything else. He demanded the best, and yet somehow some idiot always managed to take best as another word for minimal effort. People died when things like this happened. People died when someone was careless. Sometimes Nero felt like he was the only one who could see how disastrous mistakes could be. One by one, Nero read through the reports, signing them and returning them to their file in the out basket, where someone would bring them back to the archives were such documents were kept. To his slight relief, there were no reports of death, although if there had been, he would have known about it already. Still, it was nice to see the proof laying out on his desk. By the time he was done, Nero was in an even worse mood than he had been in before. All the same, he pressed on.

Second pile, finances. What needed to be repaired, who needed a pay raise, who needed a pay cut, bills being due, who was paying their loans this month. Even with the extensive classes on the subject of money, most of the students didn't understand how much money and resources it cost to run this place. For them, blowing up a section of the school meant a month's worth of detentions. For Nero, it meant another check. He had known that running a school would be expensive, but sometimes the amount of damage a group of teenagers could do could surprise even him.

Piles upon piles of paper appeared to materialize in front of Nero. Slowly but surely, the papers in out basket began to pile up, and the little pile gave Nero a small twinge of satisfaction. His brain was quick to remind him that there would be more tomorrow. Nero glanced at the time. Nearly two hours had passed. He had finished just in time to prepare for the meeting he had with a few science and technology teachers in fifteen minutes.

Or, he would have, had a guard not dragged in a boy wearing a blue jumpsuit.

"Excuse me, sir," the guard said. "He was found attempting to sabotage some equipment for a sports match. Apparently it was very serious. Colonel Francisco would like immediate permission for a red-level offense."

"It depends," Nero purred. He directed his gaze at the struggling boy. "What did you do, Mr.…?"

"Hadley. And I didn't do nuthin'!" the boy insisted. "It was just an electric plug! Or two. Or ten. In the water… With knives."

Nero gave Hadley a stern look. Just another example of someone who didn't understand fatal mistakes. Yes, the other team would have been eliminated, but so would have Hadley's… permanently.

"Permission granted," he said, tapping a few keys on his computer to allow Francisco the permissions to take care of the student as necessary.

"This school is stupid!" Hadley shouted as he was forced in the direction of his punishment. "Nothing's important! You don't teach us anything!"

Nero rolled his eyes, but he didn't really mean it. For a moment, a flicker of doubt passed over his face, but after a moment, it was gone. He glanced at the time again. Five minutes had passed. Nero grabbed the materials he would be needing for the next half hour, accidentally knocking his partially filled coffee mug over. The remaining pool of coffee splattered onto Nero's clean, white shirt… along with his notes for the meeting. Nero audibly growled, righting the mug and looking over the damage. His shirt could be fixed, he merely needed to button up. His notes, on the other hand, were done for. Nero accessed the files from the computer, attempting to reprint the papers.

Or he would have, if the printer hadn't run out of ink.

Cursing under his breath, Nero printed the files at another computer, racing over to it and waiting for the papers to roll out. Normally, it wouldn't have taken long, if someone else hadn't been printing a particularly large document first. For what seemed like an exasperatingly lengthy time, Nero lingered next to the printer until the final page of his notes printed. He plucked them from the tray, hurrying out of the room and to the meeting room, where, considering his luck, the teachers were probably already waiting.

Indeed, everyone was waiting on him. Six sets of eyes watched Nero take his seat. Nero, ever the improvisational host, acted as though nothing had happened and began the meeting. Nero listened intently to what his fellow teachers had to say, but he became increasingly distracted as his Blackbox, located in his pocket, began to vibrate more and more frequently. Nero continued to ignore it, hoping that he himself was not vibrating too much as he recorded information in response to what the others were saying.

He was no longer able to ignore it, though, when his Blackbox began to buzz loudly. Annoyed, Nero pulled out the Blackbox, looking at the message displayed on the screen. He was needed by the council. Brilliant. He informed his colleagues that the rest of the meeting would be cancelled, rising and sliding his Blackbox back into his pocket. Nero hurried out of the room. He was still within hearing distance when he heard some of the other teachers say:

"Nero has an awful lot on his plate, don't you think?"

"He ought to slow down."

"Sooner or later, all this activity is going to catch up with him."

Nero turned the corner, pretending that he did not really care what they were talking about. He rushed into the meeting room, where everyone else was seated and apparently waiting on him.

"Max," Diabolus Darkdoom said curtly, obviously annoyed by his tardiness. "We've been waiting."

"I do apologize, but I believe that it said something about an emergency," Nero replied coolly. "So I suggest we get started, now."

Darkdoom, still miffed but realizing the truth of Nero's words, began to speak.

"There's been an offer made to this council in terms of resources," he informed the council. He began to elaborate all the details, which, although interesting and potentially helpful, did not seem entirely spectacular enough to merit emergency status.

By the time that the meeting was over, Nero was thoroughly put out. Of course, he knew that such discussions were important to the success of the organization, but honestly, he had a school to run too, and there were far more important "emergencies" that he needed to attend to at his own school.

Nero left the meeting as quickly as possible, accidentally running into Raven as he exited the meeting room.

"Watch where you're going!" Raven snapped, before realizing who exactly it was she had run into.

"Watch who you're talking to!" Nero retorted angrily. Both glared at each other angrily. The animosity continued to linger.

"Just shut up," Raven growled, before turning and walking off before Nero could say something else to her.

Nero, never one to miss the chance to have the last word, grabbed a pen from his breast pocket, throwing it in Raven's direction and hitting her squarely on the head with it. Without looking back, Nero walked back to his office, where more paperwork than before awaited him.

Nero cursed under his breath throughout the duration of his paperwork session, feeling quite behind and inexplicably angry. All the same, he pressed on, working well past dinner time and into the night. It was nearly nine when he finally gave up and decided to get a snack before going to bed for the night.

Nero didn't bother heading down to the kitchens, instead pulling out a sandwich from his mini-fridge and eating that instead. It was flavorless and dry, and Nero had to spit it out. Nero collapsed onto a chair, rubbing at his temples and reviewing the day.

_"Nothing's important! You don't teach us anything!"_

_"Watch where you're going!"_

_"Nero has an awful lot on his plate, don't you think?"_

_MWAH! MWAH! MWAH!_

_"We've been waiting."_

_"Sooner or later, all this activity is going to catch up with him."_

_"Just shut up."_

_"Emergency!"_

The thoughts clouded his mind, twisting everything he saw with the distorted images of today's antagonists.

"I wish I weren't a teacher!" Nero shouted at last. "I wish I had never done this."

"Wish granted," a quiet voice said from the doorway. Nero looked up, astonished, to find a figure about the age of sixteen years old leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing a hoodie, which hid his face, and a pair of jeans and some sneakers. Definitely not a H.I.V.E. student.

"Who are you?" Nero demanded, immediately on guard. "How did you get in here? Who do you work for?"

"You can call me Caesar," the boy said. "And you won't be needing those."

Indeed, Nero had been discreetly reaching for one of the few personal defense items he had on his person.

"Who… Who are you?" Nero asked again, now more confused.

"I said, Caesar," Caesar replied. "But that matters little to you, I'm sure."

"Who do you work for?" Nero's patience was running thin. He stood, his anger rising at this strange intruder who dared to challenge his strength and power.

"I don't work for anybody," Caesar replied casually. "Heck, the only person who can see me is you."

"What?"

"Look, Max, can I call you Max?" Caesar said. "I grant wishes. So I have come to bring you your wish."

"I didn't…"

"You just said, direct quote here, "I wish I weren't a teacher, I wish I had never done this."" Caesar pointed out. "I am here to grant you your wish."

"I… But I… Uhh… Are you real?"

"Define 'real.'"

"Er…"

"Yeah. Something like that. Now come on, we don't have all night, you know!"

"What?"

"Get up! Come on!" Caesar encouraged. "We've got places to go! People to see!"

"But…"

"Oh, come on already. Let's get to the hangar, our flight is waiting."

"What flight?"

"Dude, if you're going to ask about every single thing we're doing, it's going to be a long night."

"I just don't understand… Where are you taking me? And why should I trust you?"

"As said, I grant wishes. I am going to show you exactly what life would be like if you had never done any of what you've done," Caesar replied coolly. "And as for the trust thing… Well, considering I'm not real, and you won't be either in a very short period of time, I don't see much harm in it. Now hurry up!"

Hesitantly, Nero followed Caesar to the hangar bay, for once being completely ignored by absolutely everyone in the school who he passed. There was a helicopter waiting for them in the hangar. It was bright purple, and it occurred to Nero that a bright purple helicopter was not the best way to avoid attention. Still, he hesitantly followed Caesar onto the deck, and took a seat in the copilot's chair.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Caesar sighed.

"Where's your sense of adventure? Don't you want to be surprised?"

"I'm not really fond of surprises…"

"Alright, I'll give you this one, but then no more questions, okay? First stop, Laura Brand. Buckle up!"


	2. Branded

"What do you mean we're going to 'Laura Brand?'" Nero argued. "She's over there, in her room. Probably."

Caesar groaned, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and remaining in a solid position. He was not going to argue with Nero.

"I think I should have the right to understand exactly where you're taking me, Caesar," Nero said firmly.

"I think I should have the jurisdiction to decide when you get to understand and when you get to stay in the dark," Caesar replied, still holding his annoyed posture. "After all, I'm driving."

Nero quieted. He could not think of much to say in reply to that. He couldn't even imagine attempting to fly this violet vehicle. He doubted that even Otto or Professor Pike could.

This helicopter was quite unlike any of the other helicopter systems he had ever heard of. There were a variety of multicolored bulbs, buttons, switches, levers, and screens displayed on the dashboard, but none seemed to be for the conventional purposes. One switch was labeled "gravity," and beside it was a keyboard with an odd assortment of symbols Nero had never seen before. Some had different numbers, others seemed to show different styles of clothing, and others were labeled with elements from the periodic table. It was very curious indeed.

"Alright," Nero sighed, giving in. "If you insist."

"I do," Caesar informed him, immediately back on task. "Now, let's see… She'd be… Twelve, yes?"

"Twelve?"

"When she was recruited to HIVE?"

"No, thirteen, actually."

"M'kay. And Laura is from here," Caesar said, touching Scotland on the map on the screen attached to the ceiling. He pushed various other buttons and pulled assorted knobs until he seemed satisfied with their destination.

"Alright, Max. Here we go!" Caesar said, pushing a large, red button in the very center of the dashboard. Nero waited for the usual sensations one felt when taking off in a helicopter, or at least some small sign that they were leaving. Instead, he felt nothing.

"Okay, we can get out now."

"You didn't even start the helicopter!" Nero protested.

"Did so. Maybe you should get glasses."

"I do not need glasses!"

"You can hardly see."

"I can see plenty."

"Then look out the window!" he exclaimed. "Come on, we don't have a lot of time." Caesar hopped out. Nero looked out the window, and was surprised to find that he was no longer at HIVE. Amazed, he followed the teen out of the vehicle. Caesar began to head down the sidewalk, assumedly to wherever Laura was.

"Isn't someone going to notice a purple helicopter just sitting there?" Nero asked loudly.

"We're invisible!" Caesar called. "It doesn't matter!"

Nero looked back at the helicopter. It was not in his nature to leave things like evidence laying around, but he seemed to have little choice in this matter.

"How do I know I'm invisible?" Nero asked, catching up with Caesar.

"Again with the questions," Caesar sighed. "I thought we agreed no more questions. **No more questions.** If you want to know something, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Nero grumbled under his breath. If Caesar had been a student at H.I.V.E., he would probably be suffering through numerous punishments for his behavior. Nero preferred direct and precise answers, which Caesar seemed capable of answering, but not willing.

"Now, I want you to observe what the world looks like," Caesar said. "Look at what it's like, remember the feel of the people in it. Store those thoughts close by. You'll be needing them in a few minutes."

Nero observed his surroundings, watching the cars drive past as they headed home for the night. The city was slowing down for the evening, and the house lights were dimming as parents tucked their children into bed.

"That's Laura," Nero realized as he saw three girls strolling down the sidewalk together. "But… younger."

"Well, you know, we did go back in time," Caesar muttered. "Let's follow her!"

Nero and Caesar walked down the sidewalk after Laura and her friends. The girls chatted happily, completely oblivious to the world around them.

"Hm," Nero said, looking at a clock on a bank sign and seeing the date. "That's odd. She should have been retrieved by now."

"You don't exist anymore, Max," Caesar said. "She had nowhere to be recruited to."

Nero somehow had an uneasy feeling from that sentence, although he couldn't quite put a finger on what it meant just yet.

After following the girls for fifteen minutes or so, Laura branched off from the other girls, heading towards her home. Caesar and Nero stayed close on her tail, Nero knowing now from the lack of response from anyone that they were indeed invisible.

Laura's home was but a few minutes away, but judging from the expression on her face, there wasn't usually a fleet of police cars sitting outside on the front lawn. Hesitantly, Laura walked up the steps, wondering if her family was there at all.

"Run! We don't want to miss this!" Caesar hollered, taking off after the red haired teen before the door could shut. Nero joined him in the front room of Laura's home. It looked as though the Brands were having a bad day. Standing around the house were government officials, who looked well armed and in sour moods.

"Laura," her father said, looking up from his seat.

"Dad… What's going on?" Laura asked, looking from person to person.

"We were hoping you could tell us," her mother said. "After all, you're the reason they're here."

"I… I am?" Laura stammered.

"Oh, yes, Ms. Brand," one of the men from the military stepped forward. "We've found evidence that someone hacked into one of our bases the other day. And do you know who we think hacked into our computers?"

"No idea," Laura replied in an honest tone.

"You, Ms. Brand," he said sternly.

"Me?" Laura looked slightly aghast, but had poor lying skills, and the truth was displayed on her face.

"Yes," he nodded. "Do you know what that means?"

"Not really," Laura said quietly, obviously trying to keep a hold on her attitude and freedom.

"How does twenty years in a high security prison cell sound?"

"Oh."

"Laura Brand, you are under arrest," the man said, snapping handcuffs around Laura's wrists. Laura looked at her parents helplessly. They looked back, a mixture of emotions clouding their faces. Astonishment at their daughter's involvement in such a crime. Fear of the government. Fear for their daughter's life. Anger at their daughter for her behavior. Disappointment in her actions. Hatred of the military, who was currently invading their home. Sadness as they knew that Laura would be found guilty.

"Come on," the man said.

"Mom… Dad…" Laura called, looking back at her parents and struggling against the man.

"I said come on!" the man barked. He shoved Laura forward taking her out to their vehicles outside. Nero saw the girl turn her face away, hiding her tears.

"Move out, men!" a voice cried for outside. Within a few minutes, they were all gone. Laura's mother burst into tears, cradling her head in her hands as she felt her life fall to pieces.

"What's going to happen to us, Andrew?" she sobbed.

"I don't know, Mary," Laura's father sighed.

Nero and Caesar left the house.

"Well?" Nero demanded. "What happens to them?"

"Back to the telecopter, and we'll see," Caesar said.

They jogged back to the helicopter, sliding into their seats and preparing for another journey through time.

"Now, let's see what she's like about ten years into the future," Caesar murmured to himself as he reset the destination settings.

"She received a twenty years sentence," Nero pointed out. "They wouldn't let her go for half."

"Of course not," Caesar replied. "But you don't need all twenty years to break someone."

Nero blinked. Break her?

Caesar hit the red button.

"Out," Caesar said.

Nero got up, now finding that they were located in front of a cement building, surrounded by razor wire and high fencing.

"There's her mom and dad," Caesar pointed. "Three guesses who they're going to see."

Nero and Caesar fell into line behind the Brands, who walked up to the front desk.

"Who are you here to see?" the receptionist asked in a bored tone.

"Laura Brand," Laura's father said. A security guard appeared, and began to take them up to where Laura was being kept.

Nero looked around the prison, and the dullness of its entirety, before following the trio into the elevator. This was the sort of place he hoped his students would never go. To lock up their potential and intelligence was to keep the sun from the earth. An unimaginable curse upon the world. The world needed evil as much as evil needed the world to prey upon.

"Your daughter might not be exactly the way you remember her," the guard said. "She's gotten worse."

The Brands said nothing, but the looks of sadness and disappointment on their face gave Nero a nervous feeing. The elevator dinged, and the doors rolled open to reveal a long, deathly silent hallway. Mrs. Brand's heels clicked as she walked down the hall behind the security guard. It was painfully loud and unnatural, and the echoes seemed to vocalize the horrors of what had happened to the people in this hallway. The fact that several of the doors appeared to be welded shut did not help to improve Nero's opinion.

"Here she is," the guard said, unlocking a door on the left side of the hall. The group hurried into the small room.

"Laura," Mrs. Brand coaxed. "Laura, it's us."

Laura was wearing what appeared to be a dirty prison uniform and a ragged pink towel, and was curled up under the latter in a corner. Laura looked up at them with an unfamiliar expression, as if she had never seen her parents before.

"Do you remember us?" Mr. Brand asked, kneeling down at her level. "It's Mom and Dad."

Laura stared at him curiously, as if she could remember seeing him, but not remember where or when.

"Dad," she said softly. "Mom."

Mary and Andrew Brand shared excited looks as their daughter spoke their names.

"That right," Mr. Brand nodded. "It's us."

Laura sat up straighter, staring at her visitors now with a bit more recognition but mostly just friendliness.

"We miss you at home," Mrs. Brand said, taking her daughter's hand. Laura seemed to take great interest in her mother's fingernails, which were painted a light shade of pink. For several minutes, the Brands shared a rare meeting. It was not nearly as loud or joyous as it once might have been, but it was obvious that both parties were enjoying the rare time spent together.

Suddenly, the soft buzzing of a vibrating phone filled the air. Laura's eyes filled with fear, and she retreated as far back as she could into her corner. Only her matted, red hair was visible from underneath her towel.

"It's just my phone, Laura," Mr. Brand said, pulling it out. "It's okay. You like phones, remember?"

Laura peeked out, and yelped in fright as her father showed it to her. It was a simple Blackberry, but the face that Laura would be frightened of something she loved so much dampened the situation in but a few milliseconds.

"Don't let her touch it," the guard said. "She is still very dangerous."

"She's terrified of it," Mr. Brand argued. Obviously, the tension of what had happened to Laura had not cleared.

"And yet she's managed to bring down all our systems three times since coming here," the guard replied. "She cannot touch the phone, sir, or I'm afraid I'll be forced to ask you to leave."

"Very well," Mr. Brand grumbled, sliding his phone into his pocket.

"See, Laura, it's gone now," Mrs. Brand said, desperately trying to recreate the connection they had had a few minutes before. After a few minutes of talking, though, it became obvious that their time with their daughter was over.

"Come, Mary," Mr. Brand sighed. "Let's go."

The guard escorted them out of the room, leaving Nero to stare at Laura, sobbing under her towel. Caesar leaned against the padded wall casually, watching Nero take in what was being presented to him.

The Laura he knew was nothing like the young woman cowering in front of him. The Laura he knew loved technology of all kinds, and although quieter than her roommate, enjoyed talking to people and getting to know them. She was eager to learn, and although not the most physically able, definitely a capable girl who he had high hopes for. To look at this shell of the Laura he was used to teaching was alarming, and strange to comprehend. The young woman at the wall was terrified of machines, and recognized no one from her past. Any skills and new ideas she might have once had were now dead, and Nero slowly realized that the Laura he knew was gone.

"Well?" Caesar asked after a few minutes. "What do you think?"

"What do I think? **What do you think I think?** What happened to her, Caesar?" Nero demanded. "What did you do to her?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything to her," Caesar said defensively. "It's what you didn't do that caused this."

"With no H.I.V.E. to attend…"

"She had no one to rescue her from her fate in prison," Caesar finished. "Where she was broken bit by bit as the government tried to learn who had trained her. They went too far, leaving her broken, inside and out, and terrified of the thing she loved most."

"But…" Nero shook his head. He looked Caesar in the eye. "This is wrong. Someone with her potential shouldn't be here. She needed guidance, and assistance on her path. Not a padded cell."

"The guidance she needed didn't exist for her," Caesar said. "The padded cell seemed to be the only option."

"We always have more than one option," Nero insisted. "Couldn't there be another future out there for her? One that doesn't end with her losing her mind? One where she's happy?"

"Max, there are an endless number of futures out there for each of us," Caesar said. "In some futures, she lives happily ever after. In others, she's attacked by a raging psychopath on her way home from the grocery store. This, though, is one of the more likely versions of her future based on your actions."

"Does it end up like this for everyone?" Nero asked. "There's more to everyone's lives than H.I.V.E. Surely they don't all end up like this."

"Let's go see, shall we?" Caesar said, a sad smile on his face. "Let's get back to the telecopter."

"Telecopter? Why do you keep calling it that?"

"Teleporter slash helicopter, duh," Caesar rolled his eyes. "Now let's go."

Nero and Caesar left as an attendant came to check on Laura, heading back into the parking lot and boarding the telecopter.

"Hmm…" Caesar said, again pushing buttons, flipping switches, setting locations, and starting the engine.

"Who are we seeing next?" Nero asked.

"Let's just say that he's in the neighborhood," Caesar grinned. "Would you care to do the honors?"

He gestured.

Nero sighed hopelessly, pushing the red button, and sending them spinning through space and time once again.


	3. Auto

**Thanks to everyone for their reviews, especially Aranel Azamai, Nev, GNO, Shnizel, Diamond Ninja, and Peanut! Sorry for not updating sooner, but it took a while to get an idea of what I wanted for this next chapter. There may be spoilers in this, ish, depending on whether you've read **_**Escape Velocity**_** or not, since it sort of references to that, ish. But nothing major is spoiled, considering this is all hypothetical. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Pretty much everything is Mark Walden's, save for Caesar.**

Again, there was no hint to the new scene, save for the sudden new setting outside of the window.

"Welcome to London," Caesar said, hopping up from his chair.

"Otto Malpense," Nero guessed absent-mindedly.

"Correct."

They exited the purple telecopter, finding themselves in front of St. Sebastian's Orphanage. A young boy, wearing a somehow formal-casual style, carried a briefcase up the stairs. He had a smug expression on his face, and appeared to be pleased with himself. Nero looked up at Otto, for of course it was he, and the talented, white-haired boy he had once known. It was he who led the way up the stairs, following Otto into the orphanage.

Otto was a curiosity to Nero, even after knowing the boy for several years. Now he was seeing a side of the teen he had never seen before, one where Overlord and H.I.V.E. had had no influences on him.

Otto walked through the orphanage, with Caesar and Nero behind him, head held high and proud. The other children nodded at Otto, or ignored him, but none called out his name or lifted a hand to greet him. It was obvious that Otto held some position of power over this domain, as young as he was, and was revered by those around him. Nero smiled, despite himself. Otto was a perfect candidate for a H.I.V.E. student, even though the Otto he was following at the moment was most likely going to disagree.

Otto headed up the stairs to the attic of the orphanage, where he had made himself an office. Nero grudgingly approved of it. Tidy, personal, and businesslike. Nero found himself longing to go back to the way things were. Otto would do great things, he was sure. To miss out on the show would be a crime. But, unfortunately, Nero knew that things couldn't go back to the way things were. He had strangely accepted the fact that he wasn't real any longer, frustrating as the situation was.

"Mr. Malpense?" a woman in a tweed jacket poked her head in.

"Ah, Mrs. McReedy," Otto gave a warm smile to the older woman.

"Was your trip successful?" the woman asked.

"It was, it was," Otto said pleasantly. "A huge success."

Mrs. McReedy gave a small smile.

"Perhaps, then, cake would be in order to celebrate such a success?" she suggested.

"I believe you make a good point there," Otto grinned. "Cake is always welcome, but especially on one's birthday."

"It's waiting for you down in the kitchens," Mrs. McReedy said.

"Well, then," Otto said, rising. "Lead the way."

Caesar stopped Nero from following them.

"I think we've seen all we need to see so far," Caesar decided. "Let's check back about eight years in the future."

"Twenty one?" Nero asked, doing the math in his head. "He won't be at the orphanage anymore."

"Thank goodness Google's still gonna be around in eight years to help us find him then, eh?" Caesar smiled. The two hurried out of the orphanage, returning to the telecopter, faithfully waiting for them outside.

"And here we go," Caesar said, pushing the red button.

Otto was nowhere in sight when Nero and Caesar departed.

"Let's follow him," Caesar said, pointing to a man dressed entirely in black with a purposeful step. "He looks suspicious."

Nero couldn't argue with that, and so found himself briskly walking to keep up with the man in black as he made toward his destination. His destination, unsurprisingly, was Otto's office. The man in black knocked, entering as someone gave their permission from behind it. Nero and Caesar followed in, their invisibility granting them free access to the conversation about to take place.

"Hello, Mr. Malpense, isn't it?" the man in black asked, halfway in between a polite and mocking tone.

"Yes, although I'm afraid that I don't know yours," Otto replied. Suspicion flickered in Otto's eyes. He knew something was up.

"It is of no importance," the man in black waved the comments away. "What is important is you, sir, and what you are going to do."

"A business proposition, then," Otto remarked.

The man in black gave a cold, cruel smile.

"Of sorts."

Otto raised an eyebrow, waiting for the man to continue.

"You see, Mr. Malpense, I represent a bigger organization, and the people I represent have been keeping an eye on you for a very long time," the man in black said calmly, as if he didn't want to sound creepy for stalking his business partner. "And we have an offer to make you."

"Go on."

"You see, we have noticed that you have certain… talents, with computers, you see, and we believe you could benefit us in a most magnificent way."

"For example?"

"The construction of new computers, the progress of technology as a whole, et cetera," the man in black replied. "We have a system we'd like you to take a look at. We think you, perhaps, would be able to fix it. I'm afraid it needs updating, and we've had a terrible time trying to bring it up to speed."

"Your challenge intrigues me," Otto said. "But tell me, what is in it for me if I agree to assist you with your… problem?"

"You will be handsomely rewarded," the man in black replied. "I believe a ten-digit quantity would become yours, were you to agree."

Otto sat, stroking his chin, thinking things over in his head.

"I accept your offer, I suppose," Otto decided.

"Thank you, Mr. Malpense, for being such a good host. I'm sure my employers will be most pleased with your decision."

"When can you bring this computer to me?"

"I'm afraid the computer is in too fragile of a condition to be brought to you," the man in black said, discreetly pulling out a tranquilizer gun from his breast pocket. "I'm afraid it's lights-out from here, Mr. Malpense."

Otto awoke alone in a cylindrical room, the doors closed shut. In truth, Nero and Caesar were right beside him, but of course, Otto couldn't see this. Nero recognized this place, and he felt a cold, iron ball forming in the pit of his stomach as a memory repeated itself.

The metal doors hissed open, and hesitantly, Otto walked through them, cautious and aware.

"Come, Mr. Malpense," the voice said, echoing over the unseen intercom. "Come."

Otto paused, almost afraid, but continued walking, mustering the courage to face what he would. He turned the corner, coming face to face with an ancient man, wrinkles dripping off of the man, and a great amount of tubes plugged into his body. Nero looked at the man with a cold hatred. Number One had changed very little from the last time they had met.

"I have been waiting for you," Number One said eagerly.

Otto looked at the man nervously, suddenly not sure what to say to this man.

"Come closer, Malpense," Number One urged.

Almost in a trance, Otto did.

"Who are you?" Otto asked. "What do you want of me?"

"Look out the window," Number One invited. "Look at all the stars you can see."

Otto followed Number One's crooked finger, looking out of the window and realizing he was no longer on earth.

"You are a star, Mr. Malpense, amongst many others," Number One said. "But that is about the change."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that I intend to make a black hole," Number One grinned, his yellow teeth gleaming maliciously. "And suck the light from the world."

"I need to go," Otto said suddenly. "Now."

He turned, but was immediately stopped as an electric fence webbed the doorway.

"I'm afraid the time when you had a choice in matters in long gone," Number One smiled, feigning pity.

"I can't help you!" Otto yelled. "I won't!"

"Of course you can't," Number One said. "You are but a mortal man. But the time of mortals is now over. Goodbye, Otto Malpense."

There was a red flash, and Nero had to close his eyes to block out the sudden flash. When his eyes reopened, the dead body of Number One lay sprawled on the floor, broken and overused. Otto was also on the floor, getting up.

He got up laughing cruelly.

"Otto Malpense is dead," he said. "Overlord is reborn."

He strode out of the room.

Nero stood there, shocked and somewhat shaken.

"You alright, Max?" Caesar asked, with sincere concern.

"I'm not sure I understand all of what just happened," Nero said after a moment's pause.

"Explain to me what you do understand," Caesar said. "Then we'll see about filling the gaps.

"Well, I understand that Otto grew up to be a successful businessman," Nero said slowly. "But… last time Otto was still a teenager when Overlord took over his body. He had to wait longer, and I don't understand why."

"At H.I.V.E. Otto probably had more access to technology and Alternate Intelligence," Caesar explained. "He needed to use more conventional methods without the leg up."

"I think I see," Nero said. "Is Otto truly dead?"

"He didn't understand what was happening to him," Caesar replied. "He probably had little chance to fight back."

Nero felt his heart sink inside of him. Whether he was real or not, Otto was still his student, and to watch his students die was one of the hardest things he faced as a teacher.

"Come on," Caesar began to herd Nero away. "There's one more part of this future you need to see."

Back at the telecopter, Caesar pushed the red button, the world outside changing in a most rapid and frightening way.

"Wait," Caesar exclaimed before Nero could rise. Caesar began to fiddle with a keyboard that appeared to have different styles of clothing on it. Caesar initiated the command, and Nero found himself smothered by a large, black machine. After a moment, the machine retreated, and Nero could now see that he was wearing a protective white suit with an oxygen supply.

"We're not real," Nero said uncertainly. "Do we need these?"

"Better safe than sorry, Max," Caesar said, deadly serious. "And with this future, I don't want to take any chances."

Caesar opened the hatch.

The world that Nero stepped into was definitely not earth. Thick, black smoke billowed into the rusty red sky, the sun hard to make out through all the thick pollution clouding the air. Suddenly, Nero was thankful for the mask and suit Caesar had provided. He doubted he'd be able to survive in such conditions as these, real or not.

"Where are we?" Nero gasped, looking at the destruction around him. "What happened?"

"The best place, they say, to learn things," Caesar pointed to a cement-block building in the distance. "Is at a library."

Nero and Caesar walked through the destruction, the dirt beneath their feet hard and cracked. Nero walked on, suddenly realizing that there were no plants on the ground.

"Caesar, you have to tell me," Nero said. "Where is this?"

"This used to be London," Caesar answered, a surprisingly sad tone in his voice. "Look that way. If you orient yourself, you can pick out the landmarks. Big Ben used to stand right there."

Nero looked at the landscape before him, suddenly able to make out the rough shapes of the city that once existed. He as at a full stop, the full impact of the destruction slamming against him.

"We have to keep going, Max," Caesar said.

"No," Nero replied firmly. "We have to stop this."

"We can't, Max," Caesar said. "And even if we could, we'd still need to see what happened at the library."

Caesar gently prodded Nero forward, leading him across the barren landscape to the cement block building. At last, Nero could see movement inside. But it was not the movement of people. Assorted droids and machines scurried around the library, but there were still no living things inside.

"There, that bank," Caesar said. He and Nero took a seat at the memory bank. Caesar pushed the button, and a video began to play. The calm, automated voice of a woman began to speak as pictures flashed upon the screen.

"Fifty years ago, the world was densely populated by a species most commonly called "human,"" the voice said as footage of people walking through Times Square in New York City. "These humans infested the earth, taking control of everything in their path and shoving all other beings out of their realm of power. It was not to last, though."

The automated voice continued to give a warped summary of Overlord's possession of Otto's body, the sudden catastrophes he caused, wiping out over 99% of the population, and the rise of machines.

"Today, 1,000 or so of each living species is kept contained in a classified location for study and observation," the automated voice said. "If you have any questions, you may download more information from our information banks. Hail Overlord."

The screen faded.

Nero was quite pale by this time.

"Let's get back to the telecopter," Caesar said heavily.

Nero nodded, not yet trusting his voice. The two walked silently across the dead landscape until they reached the purple transport once again.

"If this is how the world ends," Nero said quietly. "Why is it that Laura's future doesn't end with this?"

"It's possible, unlikely, but possible that humans were able to defeat Overlord," Caesar replied. "I've initiated that future for the rest of the futures we go to see, for the sake of making it more personal. A world where everyone dies is terrible, but I think you need to see the impact on those you care about most."

"Why show me the students, then?" Nero asked. "The students aren't the most important people to me."

"I'm showing you the students for several reasons," Caesar said. "Whether you like it or not, these are a few of the people who you care about the most, at least in terms of school. Your highest hopes ride on them. You value life, Max, but especially theirs, as well as the next generation of villainy."

"I suppose that's true," Nero admitted.

"However, the world would change for your friends and the people you trust most." Caesar announced, "Which is what we're going to see next."

Nero pushed the button, again sending them into a new future, dreading the next future he would witness.


	4. Like Father, Like Son

**Well, here we are again. I am assuming that in this chapter a much cruder type of language would be used in real life, but I don't like to use those. So! Wherever you see a word that should probably be read as something else, you may assume that that would be the intended word. Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Most of these dudes are Mark Walden's. **

Nero was slightly relieved to see the trees and grass again, as well as the many buildings of the city. The world of Overlord was gone. Nero took a deep breath of the air, still feeling slightly off-balance.

"I know this place," he realized.

"Yes, you do," Caesar agreed.

"It's odd," Nero mused. "I had assumed it would be someone else."

"Oh, don't worry, Max. We'll get to everyone in due time. We have all the time in the world."

Nero nodded.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Caesar gestured to the building in front of them. Even though it had been many years since Nero had seen it, he could still recognize the house. It was in disrepair, several window panes broken and if you didn't take the time to realize that the lights were on inside, you would've thought that the house was abandoned. Nero walked up and opened the door. Inside, a scene was unfolding.

"I hate you!" a young boy yelled, glaring at what one could assume was his mother.

"This is a few days after he would have been taken to H.I.V.E.," Caesar said informatively. Nero nodded. The boy was just as he remembered him: angry and hurt, taking charge of his life despite his young age. He was, although obviously poor, quite conscious of his appearance, and stood with a proud posture. Still, his most noticeable feature was his completely bald head.

"Michael, please!" his mother screeched, looking angry and slightly intoxicated.

"I told you already, that's not my name!" the boy spat. "It's Diabolus!"

"How dare you!" His mother made a grab for her son, but he easily sidestepped her.

"Leave me alone!"

"You are my son—you will do what I say!"

"You're not my mother!" Diabolus glared. "The only person who ever cared about me was dad, and now he's dead!"

"It wasn't me!" The woman sank to her knees. "It wasn't me!"

"Goodbye, woman," Diabolus said darkly. "For your sake, I hope we do not meet again."

With that, Diabolus grabbed a bag laying at his feet and ran out of house, slamming the already broken screen door behind him.

Without thinking, Nero took off after the thirteen year old. This kid had once grown into a man Nero very much respected and valued. To see him meet a similar future, like the others, was the last thing Nero wanted to see happen. Nero imagined that he looked rather ridiculous, and was for once thankful for his invisibility.

"Max!" Caesar called. Nero ignored him, his only focus to keep up with Diabolus.

Nero wasn't sure how long he ran, or where exactly they went, but at some point, Diabolus slowed down, and Nero did too. Diabolus turned into an alley, filled with green dumpsters overflowing with trash. The alleyway was lined by two old, yet grand buildings. Nero couldn't help but roll his eyes. They alley was a horrible place to hide out, but Diabolus was rather inclined to grandeur. To live between two buildings such as these would have suited his tastes as far as living on the streets went.

Diabolus threw down his bag, toppled on top of it, and started crying.

"I think we've seen enough in this age, Max," Caesar panted, coming up behind Nero. "This future has too much running." Nero nodded, but didn't move. Diabolus looked so helpless. Of course, he knew that Diabolus was resourceful and capable, but Nero couldn't help but worry for the boy.

"Come on!" Caesar said, tugging Nero's arm. "Diabolus's isn't the only story we have to see on this trip!"

Nero gave Caesar a startled glance. Caesar nodded gravely.

"Let's go."

They returned to the telecopter. Caesar pressed the button.

"How far have we gone?" Nero asked, observing the snow-covered scenery.

"Thirty-one years," Caesar replied.

Nero calculated the math in his head, slowly understanding what was going on. They disembarked, looking around for any sign of Diabolus.

"Which city is this?" Nero asked, looking at the unfamiliar but obviously urban scenery.

"I don't really know. I just used the telecopter to put an anchor on him. Bit of a rover, you know. We just are where he is."

"Well I don't see him." Nero looked fruitlessly out into the busy streets.

"Here," Caesar said, pulling what looked like a cell phone from his pocket. "Let's track him."

Caesar quickly punched a few buttons, and immediately, a bright purple line began to pulsate from the tracker. It snaked through the community, going around all the obstacles that sat in its way. Nero, too curious to resist, took a step forward with the intent to follow it.

"Hold up there, Max," Caesar said. Nero turned to look at him. "He could be all the way across the city, and I for one do not want to walk that far."

"What do you suggest?" Nero's expression changed into that of one he wore all too often—impatience.

Caesar grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

The next thing Nero knew, he was holding onto Caesar on the back of an enormous skateboard as the purple line reeled them in to its anchor. Nero was not unused to odd ways of transportation, and had gone on faster rides than this, but it was something new to be going through people. At first the sensation had startled him so much he nearly let go of Caesar. Perhaps the people and he were not reacting, but the cement was an entirely different matter all together, which could have ended quite disastrously.

"Caesar!" Nero exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"Don't tell me you've never gone skateboarding before!" Caesar was clearly enjoying the ride, and had Nero been able to see the smirk crossing Caesar's face, he would have smacked the teen upside the head.

"I have!" Nero argued. "But in previous times it was a more manual process. And we didn't go through people!"

Caesar didn't respond, instead keeping his eyes on the upcoming hill. Nero clamped his mouth shut as they tipped over the steep edge. Caesar was a different matter.

"YEEHAWWWWWW!"

Nero just closed his eyes and prayed that it would soon be over.

At last, Nero's blind ride came to a jolting stop, and he was all too eager to get off of the board. It took a moment for Nero to orient himself, trying to overcome the slight dizziness he was feeling.

The purple stripe was still pulsating, pointing towards a dark alley. Nero looked at it hesitantly.

"Come on," Caesar said, following the light. "Nothing will hurt us."

Nero by now was not convinced that not being real was the same thing as being invincible, but, never one to be left behind, he went after Caesar into the alleyway.

At first, there was nothing. Then a small figure flitted out of the shadows, only to hide behind the next dumpster there.

"There," Caesar pointed. "Let's follow him."

Nero and Caesar followed the person, who seemed rather afraid to be out and about. Nero kept his eyes open for danger, even though he was powerless against any events that occurred.

"Is this even possible?" Nero asked. "Would he even have been born?"

"It's possible he never was," Caesar admitted. "Which would indeed be sad, but I think you should see life assuming he was."

"What about his mother?" Nero's question was met with silence. Caesar walked ahead, keeping his eyes focused upon their target. They walked several blocks, eventually finding themselves in the back of a warehouse. The echo of gravelly voices rang out indistinctly around the building, and Nero could see the glow of firelight reflecting against the metal walls. The trio walked closer, and Nero was able to make out five men around the fire, tossing in scraps of cardboard from old pizza boxes and wood from broken crates.

"I'm so cold I can't feel my butt," one of the men grumbled.

"Well, if you had been able to make that deal yesterday, maybe we wouldn't be here!" A second man tossed a scrap into the fire, scooting closer. Nero was surprised, as he felt fine. He glanced at Caesar, who was messing with the details on his small PDA device, and suddenly realized Caesar was creating a shield against the cold.

"It's not my fault that Louis didn't come through!" the first man spat.

"Quiet!" A large man who was dressed the warmest of the five gave each of his companions a stern look. His shiny bald head reflected the fire's glow menacingly. Diabolus glanced over in Nero's direction, and to his surprise, there was a cold, unfeeling ball of lead behind his eyes, instead of the usual, mischievous gleam he was used to.

"Sorry, boss," the first man said robotically.

"Just calm down, Jean," Diabolus said. "I'm coming up with a plan."

Everyone was silent, allowing their leader to think.

"Now," Diabolus spoke again after a few minutes. "Roger, you've been watching the gas station, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir," the man named Roger agreed.

"Do you think they're worth the bargain?"

"I've been watching, and they're gonna be hiring a new kid to run the station soon," Roger replied. "He starts working next week. His shift starts at six."

"Morning or evening?"

"Evening."

"You're sure of this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hm," Diabolus mused. "I think we're going to have to pay a visit to this gas station next week."

"And then what?" Jean demanded. "We've been here for months! Boss, they're gonna be onto us if we can't get outta here soon."

"I know that, Jean," Diabolus said. "Perhaps it would be easier to make the money if you would stop wasting it all on crap we don't need."

Jean shifted uncomfortably.

"It'd be a lot easier to get us out of there if we didn't have to drag that kid everywhere," he muttered.

"Nigel has been holding his own since he was five years old," Diabolus said strictly. "And he has been a handy addition on the team."

"If he can hold his own with us, he can hold his own alone. I say we abandon him."

"If you're that concerned about getting us out of here due to the cost of an extra person, you may "volunteer" to give up your ticket." There was steel in Diabolus's voice, and Nero could see his hand drift towards his pocket. The coat obscured the view, but Nero could guess what types of lethal things Diabolus was hiding in his pockets.

Jean harrumphed, but said no more. The kid wasn't worth wasting his time over. Yet.

"Tom," Diabolus said, acknowledging the man who had earlier accused Jean. "Here's ten bucks. Find us something to eat. We'll meet back at our spot in the park in half an hour."

The men dispersed, each leaving at an interval of time, laying low until they could get food once again.

"I know you're there, Nigel," Diabolus said, putting out the fire. Nigel said nothing, hiding in the shadows.

"There's no need to hide."

Hesitantly, Nigel rose, walking forward and facing his father.

"Hello," he said meekly.

Nigel looked almost as he had when Nero had known him. True, he was skinner, and wearing clothes that were in need of repair or replacement, but his face was quite the same as Nero remembered it. His round glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose, his bald head matched with his father's. Looking at both Darkdooms side-by-side, you would have no doubt of their relationship.

"How long did you know I was there?" Nigel asked, when his father said nothing.

"I saw your shadow cross the wall when you first came in," Diabolus answered. Nigel bowed his head, noticing his father's obvious displeasure.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Nigel, living on the streets isn't easy," Diabolus said. "Which is why you need to be the best at it. Otherwise you end up dead. You end up mangled in a suitcase floating down a river."

"Why can't you just get a job?" Nigel asked scornfully. "I hate how we have to move around to survive."

Diabolus was quiet, observing his son.

"Besides," Nigel said, his voice now softer. "No one wants me here anyway. Not even you."

"That's not true."

"You know it is," Nigel replied. "I'm just dead weight. I can't do anything. And I'm making life harder for you."

"You're good at hiding," Diabolus pointed out. "You can see the things that not everyone else can."

"I'm tired of running away," Nigel said. "And I'm tired of trying to fit in here. Because I don't."

"If your mother were alive…" Diabolus said, drifting.

"If Mom were alive, I would be dead. Which you wouldn't mind much."

"Nigel." Diabolus switched to his warning tone.

"What?"

"Just shut up."

"Shut up because I'm right?"

"Shut up because I say so!" Diabolus roared. Nigel, it seemed, had grown used to being yelled at by his father.

"I'll see you at the park," Nigel said curtly. "Probably."

He turned away.

"Nigel," Diabolus said, as an afterthought. "Wait."

But Nigel was gone.

Diabolus walked with long strides out of the warehouse, Nero and Caesar on his tail.

"Nigel!" he yelled, looking after the retreating figure of his son. Nigel looked back.

"What?"

"Come back!"

"Why?"

Diabolus didn't bother replying, and instead walked over to his son, putting both hands on his shoulders.

"Look," he said firmly. "I know that the others think you're a burden. And I know you're having a hard time with no friends and no real family. If you want to leave, then leave but please… I want to know when you go. I'll help you, even. You're all I've got left, Nigel. And I care about you."

Nero waited, expecting the two hug. Although Nigel and his father rarely saw each other at H.I.V.E., Nero knew they valued each others' time. Diabolus had always tried to spend time with Nigel when he could, to make up for the time when he was thought to be dead. This world was different.

"I'll think about it," was all Nigel said.

Diabolus nodded.

Together, they began to walk away, assumedly towards the park. Perhaps they cared for one another, but their relationship was broken, and it was clear that their time together wouldn't last forever.

Nero turned, prepared to return to the telecopter.

"Wait." Caesar caught Nero's arm. Nero returned his gaze to Diabolus and Nigel, but they disappeared around the street corner without incident.

Nero was about to turn back when Jean, the rebellious henchman, walked out from hiding.

"They're heading for the park," he said into a walkie-talkie.

"We'll be waiting," the walkie-talkie replied.

Jean began walking the other direction.

Nero stared, realizing what would be happening to one of the few men he had once called friend in just a few minutes.

"We can go now," Caesar said. They returned to the telecopter. Before Caesar could enter, Nero blocked the door.

"Why are you showing me all this?" he asked. "Asking me to watch people I care about die isn't helping."

"You might not see it," Caesar replied. "But it's helping."

"I don't want to do this anymore," Nero said, taking his seat.

"Well, Max, we started this trip together, and that's how we're going to finish it," Caesar said. "And I'm not giving up on you yet."

"Ugh," Nero groaned, leaning back in his seat. He rubbed his temples, eyes closed. "I wish someone would get a happy ending for _once_."

Caesar pressed the red button.

"Wish granted."

**I feel the need to explain my math for this chapter, in regards to the characters. The series began in 2006, so at the current place in the series, it is 2009. I am assuming that Diabolus is around 44 in 2006, and therefore was born in 1962, which is why his name is Michael, because that was the most popular male name in that year. The beginning part takes place in 1975. So, yeah. I just want to make sure I'm not being completely random. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Bittersweet

**Disclaimer: All characters, minus Caesar, are Mark Walden's. Luckeh him. Also, I do not own The King and I or The Lion King. I don't own a lot of stuff. But that's okay. **

Nero was being difficult. He had never really thought about it before, but being difficult was one of many talents he possessed. When he was three, he had been difficult when having to eat squash. When he was six, he was difficult with his sister and sharing his toys. When he was eight, he was difficult about being walked to school every day. When he was sixteen, he was difficult while getting parking tickets. When he was in his twenties, he was difficult as he made his career as a villain. When he started building H.I.V.E., he was _very_ difficult in terms of the details and how he wanted his school to be.

Now he was being difficult about getting out of the telecopter, and Caesar was reaching the end of his rope.

"I told you it was a happy ending this time!" he argued. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Nero shrugged, looking away.

"Come on, Max," Caesar pleaded. "Nobody dies, or gets imprisoned, or hurt, or anything! I promise!"

Nero looked at Caesar skeptically.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Caesar nodded earnestly. Nero observed Caesar, maintaining a distant expression. In all appearances, Caesar was telling the truth. Yet Caesar was merely a teenager, the fact that he was telling the truth was quite inconsequential in this instance. Nero was older, therefore his decisions would be the first to be carried out.

"What are you thinking about?" Caesar asked, after Nero didn't react for a span of several minutes.

"I'm wondering things," Nero replied.

"I would be curious to know these wonderings," Caesar said casually.

"The first is a wondering of how I know I can trust you," Nero replied.

"Well, I'm the only one who responds to your existence," Caesar shrugged. "Who else are you going to trust?"

"But how do I know you aren't just playing games with my head?"

"I am."

"What?"

"Well, this really is, for the most part, in your head. We're in the realm of imagination and what-ifs. Your head is the only place we'd get to go on a journey like this."

"But I thought you said we're not real."

"Not to the world we came from, we're not, which is what I figured you meant."

"I see."

"Great! Next wondering, please."

"Now I am wondering why you decided to visit me."

"You made a wish, I grant wishes. I've told you that several times."

"I know. But you could have granted anyone's wish. You granted mine. Why not someone else's?"

"You tell me, Max. We're figments of your imagination. You brought us here. You're the one who can answer that, not me."

"I didn't expect to have you enter my rooms and start dragging me through the time spectrum. I am pretty sure that isn't my fault."

"Perhaps. You know, when you wish, you aren't just wishing. You're wondering, just as you are right now. Tell me, what were you were wondering at the time of your wish?"

"I suppose I was wondering what would happen if my wish came true… What life would really be like."

"And who do you suppose came to satisfy these questions?"

"I suppose it would be you, wouldn't it?"

Caesar winked.

"Next wondering!" he proclaimed.

"I've been wondering this for some time… Why are you a teenager?"

"I'm not."

"Excuse me?"

"Let me explain. I only appear to be a teenager. In reality, I'm ageless. I could be one or one hundred or one thousand. To you, I look like I'm fifteen, sixteen."

"Then," Nero said carefully. "Why would you choose that age over one closer to my own, or even older?"

"That is an excellent question. Allow me to answer by beginning with another question. I believe you are a fan of the theatre, yes?"

"I suppose so."

"You suppose so?"

Nero sighed.

"I enjoy a night out to see a play."

"Have you ever heard of a musical called _The King and I_?"

"Yes."

"Do you really? Do you know what it is about?"

"Yes."

Nero was quiet, images of the times he had seen this production flashing into his mind. He wondered where this question was going, but he knew that Caesar would get him there in his own time. Rushing wouldn't help.

"Summarize it."

"It's the story of an English schoolteacher travelling to Siam in order to teach its king's children," Nero said. "And the adventures she has henceforth while spending time with its people, her students, and the king."

"Mhmm," Caesar nodded. "There's a song the schoolteacher sings in that play, called _Getting to Know You._ Are you familiar with it?"

"Decently."

"Then, perhaps you could recite the lines Mrs. Anna says prior to beginning the song?"

Nero was still, calling forth the memories of the play, watched in happier times. He saw the schoolteacher in her blue dress, speaking to the young children at her feet. Words came out of her mouth. What were they?

"It's a very ancient saying," Nero recited. "But a true and honest thought, that when you become a teacher, by your pupils you'll be taught."

Caesar smiled.

"Now, tell me, Max," he said. "How old are your students?"

"Between twelve and twenty years old."

"And how old am I?"

"Between twelve and twenty years old."

"Hmm… And, would you say, that while in your classroom, you are not merely the teacher, but also the taught?"

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

Nero shifted in his seat.

"While I am instructing my students, they are also instructing me. They come up with their own ideas and information, and sometimes they are able to come up with information I was previously unaware of. I read their essays, watch their projects, and listen to their discussions. They're their own people."

"And it doesn't bother you that people younger than you correct you or teach you?"

"Not really," Nero responded. "Not as much as it bothers some of my colleagues."

"Now, if I remember correctly, Max, you sometimes have a harder time listening to your colleagues than to your students."

Nero was silent.

"And therefore, Max, do you think that perhaps I would be a more interesting and convincing guide on this tour than someone older than you or closer to your own age?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Anything else?"

"I only have one more," Nero replied slowly. "I would like to know who we're visiting this time."

"Well, Max, I guess you'll just have to step out of the telecopter if you want to find that out."

Nero gave Caesar a withering look, but alas, it was half-hearted.

"Very well," he sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Together, Caesar and Max exited the vibrant, purple telecopter and came face to face with the busy streets below.

Nero furrowed his brow.

"You're kidding me," he sighed.

"Come on, Max," Caesar grinned. "We've got a bit of a walk."

The brisk air was filled with the busy noises of the street, and Nero couldn't help but feel exposed after such a long time of evading authorities in places such as this. Slowly, areas became more familiar as they neared their destination.

"Welcome to Argentblum Industries," Caesar said, gesturing to the large chocolate manufacturing company sitting in front of them. "I trust you've been here before?"

"It wasn't exactly my idea," Nero sighed. "But yes."

"Excellent. Then maybe you know where his office is, 'cause really, I have no idea."

Rolling his eyes, Nero led the way inside, finding the way to the office in which Heinrich Argentblum carried out his duties as head of Argentblum Industries.

The secretary was a pretty blond woman who typed quickly on her keyboard. Curious, Nero peeked around the desk to see what she was doing. Rather than details relating to her employer's work, it seemed as though this woman was planning a date on Friday night. Nero made a mental note to see what his own secretary did when he was in his office. It could prove quite interesting.

"Alison!" a voice with a thick German accent came on the secretary's intercom. He began to speak in German, which Nero luckily knew how to speak.

"I will be needing a coffee now," the voice said. "Two, actually. Franz and I are thirsty."

"Yes sir," Alison replied.

The secretary went over to the coffeemaker, filling up two mugs with the thick brown liquid and scooping generous amounts of sweetener into them. Alison walked to Argentblum's office, Nero and Caesar right behind her, and delivered the coffee.

"Thank you," Argentblum said, accepting the coffee.

"Ja, thank you!" Franz agreed, greedily beginning to drink his own.

Just as Nero remembered him, Argentblum was a portly man, and looked rather like a pig who had been stuffed into a business suit. Franz, too, was plump and looked well on his way to turning into his father when he grew up. Then again, with Argentblum Sr.'s thinning hair and expanding waistline, perhaps that was not such a flattering compliment.

Alison left, leaving her employer and his son to their work. They were silent for a bit before they began to move.

"Alright, I think we're good," Argentblum said. Franz scooted over to the computer.

"It was being my turn," he said.

"Here," Argentblum offered the keyboard to his son and maximized a collapsed window. Caesar and Nero leaned in close, fascinated to find out what villainous schemes this man and his son were up to. It was true that Argentblum was the largest manufacturer of chocolate in Europe, but his secret and more profitable enterprise was that which Nero himself was a part of: villainy. Such a successful businessman would surely have excellent schemes on which he could learn his son.

Today, it seemed, he was teaching Franz the esteemed art of pinball.

"No!" Argentblum exclaimed. "Keep your eye on the ball at all times!"

"But Father, the lights…" Franz pouted, his glistening lip puckering. "They are so distracting! And… beautiful!"

"As are many things in this life," Argentblum replied sagely. "But you must remember, Franz, that they are merely trivialities, and no matter how enticing they are, the true prize is that which wins you the game."

Franz struggled with the game a few more times, until it was again his father's turn. With ease and diligence, Argentblum expertly maneuvered the little metal ball on the screen, causing the score tally to ever increase.

The game ended, Argentblum defeating one of his previous high scores.

"Wow, Father," Franz said in a tone of awe and reverence. "You are truly the master."

"Someday, you, my son, will have equal talent," Argentblum assured him. "So long as you practice and continue to strive for the high score."

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Come, it is time to make the rounds."

Obediently, Franz followed his father out of the calm, peaceful setting of the office area and into the manufacturing plant wherein the merchandise was being made. Nero and Caesar followed, the splendor of Argentblum somewhat lessened by the experience of the pinball episode.

Through the heavy swinging doors Argentblum and son crashed, beginning to walk down a metal catwalk. Nero gave Caesar a hesitant look. The combined weight of the Argentblums could prove disastrous for the metal rails.

"I think we'll be okay," Caesar said uncertainly. "But if it looks like we're going to fall, try to imagine a soft landing. That might help."

Nero made the first step onto the catwalk, and as fast as he dared, caught up with Argentblum.

"Up the stairs," Argentblum gestured, looking up to the tallest point of the manufacturing plant. Nero and Caesar headed up the stairs after them. By the end of the trek, both Argentblum and Franz were wheezing heavily, and they both sat down to catch their breath. Nero and Caesar waited for them.

"Come here," Argentblum said, now recovered. Franz came to stand by his father at the edge of the balcony, looking out at the machines making the chocolate, the workers packaging the chocolate, the chocolate being cooled and stored, and the men carrying out the heavy boxes, ready to be sold.

"Look, Franz," Argentblum said passionately. "Everything the fluorescent light touches is part of our industry."

"Wow," Franz gaped, looking out at his father's company with excitement.

"A business's time under one management is like the melting of chocolate," Argentblum continued. "One day, Franz, the sun will melt my chocolate, and my time as C.E.O. here will end, and will reharden into an equally delicious confection with you as the leader of European chocolate industries."

"And this will all be mine?" Franz gasped.

"Everything," Argentblum agreed.

"Everything the light touches," Franz sighed dreamily. "But what about that shadowy place?"

He pointed to a dark staircase in the very corner of the manufacturing area. It was difficult to see, but there was a man standing there in the darkness, ready to head off any who dared to enter its depths.

"That beyond the chocolate company," Argentblum said quietly. "You must not go there, Franz."

"But I thought you said I could go anywhere," Franz argued.

"There's more to running this company than you yet know," Argentblum said.

"More?"

Argentblum gave his son an amused smile and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"I will take you there one day, Franz," he promised. "But not today. Now, it looks as though a new batch of chocolate has been prepared. Care for free samples?"

Franz grinned. Definitely a yes.

"That conversation sounded vaguely familiar," Nero commented.

"I know, huh?" Caesar agreed. "C'mon. This is way too mushy. To the future!"

They hiked back to the telecopter and in the push of a button, were fifteen years into the future. Returning to the chocolate factory, it looked as though business was still booming, and life was successful.

They found Franz in his father's old office, playing pinball.

He was twice as round as his father, and based on the décor of the office, twice as wealthy, too.

"Chocolate?" his secretary offered. "If you need anything, Mr. Argentblum, I will most gladly get it for you."

"I need a coke," Franz said. "And some pizza."

"Yes, sir."

The secretary left. Franz continued to not do anything.

"I thought you said that this was a happy ending," Nero said.

"He's happy," Caesar pointed out. "See, look? He just beat his high score!"

Nero shook his head.

"It's not the same," Nero said. "Look at him!"

"Yeah?"

"I mean… He's just living off his father's fortune! Look at his body! He's never experienced loss. He doesn't understand the joys he has. He's ignorant!"

"In his ignorance he's happy."

Nero scoffed.

Franz's cell phone began to ring. He turned it to loudspeaker.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Argentblum, sir," a voice at the other end said. "Number One would like to speak with you."

Franz sighed.

"I'm ready," he said.

Number One appeared on the computer screen.

"Hello, Franz," he said. "Excellent work, this month, as usual."

"Thank you, sir," Franz bobbed his head.

"I have a project for you to do," Number One said. "I'm sending some associates in to give you full details."

"It will be attended to immediately, sir."

"Excellent. And Franz?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Your new line of caramel bars is simply delicious. Do you think you could send over more?"

"Of course, sir. It will be done immediately."

"Excellent. Do Unto Others."

"Do Unto Others," Franz repeated.

He went back to playing pinball.

"This is making me sick," Nero said. "Let's get out of here."

"Why?" Caesar asked. "You got your wish."

"It's not the same," Nero sighed.

"I promised nobody would die, or be imprisoned, or hurt! Didn't I hold true to that?"

"Not really."

"What?"

"You said nobody would die," Nero said bitterly. "Franz may not be "dead," so to speak, but he certainly isn't living. He's a vegetable."

Caesar shrugged.

"True."

"You said nobody would be imprisoned," Nero went on. "But look at the way he's trapped in that body! He can hardly move! He's a prisoner of his own decisions."

"Okay…"

"And you said nobody would be hurt. If nobody was hurt, then why do I feel so bad? This isn't happily ever after, Caesar."

"You're right, Max, it isn't."

Nero sighed.

"I think that you would have been able to change that, though," Caesar said quietly. "Let's get back to the telecopter."

They left.

"Where to now?" Nero asked, buckling up.

"Let's flip a coin," Caesar suggested. "Heads we get another father-son duo, tails we embark on a journey to the New World."

Nero pulled a coin from his pocket.

He held it tight in his hand for a moment, wondering which story he would next get to witness.

Then, he flipped it.


	6. Overboard

**Notice: This particular interval does not feature skinks. Lo siento.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own H.I.V.E., but I do own a copy of it. Alas, that does not grant me rights. Oh well.**

Heads.

Dr. Nero stared at the small face imprinted on the coin as it looked away into the distance, almost as if it was shunning him. Nero replaced the coin in his pocket.

"Well?" Caesar asked.

"Heads," Nero said. Caesar clucked his tongue.

"What?" Nero asked.

"What do you mean, what?"

"You sound disappointed. Or disapproving. It's almost like you don't want us to go on this stop."

"Not exactly," Caesar shook his head. "We'd go to this stop whether you flipped heads or tails, but this stop is going to be one of the more difficult ones."

"When you say difficult, you mean emotionally, correct?"

"Of course! You don't think we'd actually engage in difficult physical labor, do you?" Caesar asked, appalled.

Nero shrugged.

"We both know we hate it," Caesar said. "That's why you hire people."

"Indeed," Nero sighed. "Anyway, I'm curious to know what you meant by that. Difficult."

"It's a complicated story to begin with, you have to understand," Caesar warned. "Because you are really the key point in this story. I'll show you."

Caesar hopped out of the telecopter, clearing the stairs in one fell bound. Nero, who was above such practices, lightly stepped down from the massive magenta mechanism and waited for Caesar to continue. Surprised, he found himself in H.I.V.E.'s main hangar. He gave Caesar a sharp glance.

"Now," Caesar said, sounding very business-like. "Let's take a look at current times, shall we? Then we'll go back 30 years or so and see what there is to see."

Nero nodded.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Your classroom," Caesar smiled. Nero raised an eyebrow, but calmly walked to the classroom in question, which he could so easily remember being trapped in earlier that day. Now, though, it was filled with a _certain_ Alpha class containing six or so teens with a particular knack for trouble. Automatically, the list of past offences began to scroll through Nero's mind. A small cough from Caesar redirected his attention, forcing him to focus. Nero glanced at the board, and realized that this was a recreation of a class he had been teaching the previous week.

He, Dr. Max Nero, was there, standing at the front of the classroom and finishing up the lesson.

"You have the rest of the class period to work on your projects," the other Nero said, going and sitting at his desk. Ah, yes, this was one of the few times he would allow the students to work on their projects in-class. The project in question was to do a complete analysis of one of their most admired villains in all of time, and create "something awesome," as Shelby Trinity had put it earlier, around him or her.

Immediately, the class began to chatter as they set to work. The other Nero gave a reminder to keep it down, and returned to his own tasks, glancing over at the class every once and a while to show that he was still paying attention to them. Nero now was standing amongst his students, and fully able to hear the things they were saying. The other Nero seemed to ignore all the conversation around him; whether a prestigious school in the suburbs, a growing school in southern Africa, or a top-secret school for villains, high school drama was high school drama, and that was something Nero, past and present, did not want to reacquaint himself with if at all possible.

Familiar swathes of words swirled around in Nero's head. Phillip Chriss dated Sierra Lan for approximately forty seconds before she got a better offer. Justin Harp was still in the medical ward, thanks to Ethan Baggins. Professor Pike had assigned three classes five detention sessions. This project was so hard. Someone had laid duct tape on Ms. Leon's desk and she didn't see it. Dr. Nero was a robot. Otto Malpense left the school again. Raven killed Ms. Gonzales, which is why she hadn't been in class the past six weeks. Someone had stolen Toby Rogers's screwdriver, and he was planning on killing whoever had taken it.

In other words, same old, same old.

"Over here," Caesar said, easing his way towards the table located in the center of the room, ominously shadowed by the broken filing cabinet that Nero insisted on leaving right there. There sat the entire gang, talking amongst themselves happily and yet whispering as well. Starting at the head was Otto Malpense, who had decided to do his project in a holographic display format. To his left sat Nigel Darkdoom, working away on a good, old-fashioned power point presentation. Continuing down the table, Shelby Trinity was busy gluing her hands together, although Nero sincerely hoped that at some point she might fill up the poster board in front of her with her villainy analysis. Beside her, Laura Brand was tapping away at a laptop, her eyes darting from side to side to keep her project safe from any hidden intruders. Franz Argentblum was flipping through a textbook, noting important dates and people in his notebook. Nero, though Franz was slightly behind, wasn't concerned. Perhaps Franz was not a muscle man, but he could deliver what was asked of him, and his presentations were always hilarious. Wing Fanchu was seated on Otto's right, hard at work on a small figurine of his choice villain.

"Pass the scissors, please," Shelby said, maneuvering her hands as best she could while they were temporarily attached.

"Hm," Franz said. "I wonder…"

"You wonder what?" Otto asked, as Franz drifted off.

"If you stuck a straw up somebody's nose, do you think you could drink their brain?" Franz asked, staring hard at his textbook. The other students exchanged half amused, half repulsed expressions.

"I thought Wing was the zombie around here, Franz," Shelby joked. Chuckles ensued around the table, even from Wing.

"It's him, isn't it?" Nero asked Caesar, gesturing to Wing. Caesar nodded gravely. Nero observed the teen, the irony of the fact that he now analyzed a blossoming villain just as the students analyzed villains of his own league not lost on him.

Wing was quite like his father, in the respect that he had the same tall, muscular build and similar handsome features, softly altered by his mother's own beautiful characteristics. Wing's long hair was pulled back, his face formed in deep concentration as he carefully worked on his small figurine. For one of such a size, it was amazing how easily he would manipulate such a small, delicate thing. He wore, just like the rest of the students in his stream, the black Alpha jumpsuit.

Nero was well aware of Wing's resistance to the label of "villain," and although Nero was convinced Nero belonged at H.I.V.E., he knew better than to try and convince Wing of otherwise. Wing was steadfast in his thinking, and Nero suspected that Wing had seen more than enough in his short life to make these decisions. After all, witnessing one's mother's death was difficult for anyone, and Nero had no doubt about the types of things Xiu Mei had taught to her son.

And of course it couldn't be easy to have Cypher for a father.

The bell rang, and the students filed out.

"Is that enough for you, or do you want to stalk Wing more?" Caesar asked.

"I do not "stalk,"" Nero said indignantly. "I observe with the intention of learning more information about the subject in question in order to better my chances of success, whatever my mission may be."

"Yeah," Caesar rolled his eyes. "As I said, stalking. Are you done?"

"Yes," Nero sighed.

They returned to the telecopter, and set off through time after smacking the big red button.

When they stepped out again, they were on what appeared to be a college campus. Nero scanned the area, now picking out Xiu Mai Chen sitting on a bench. She was much younger than she had ever been when he had known her, but he could still recognize her based on pictures he'd seen. As usual, she was busy at work on a handheld tablet, now accomplishing some mystical technical goal as she normally did. Caesar and Nero casually walked up to her, although there was really no reason to, as no one could see them.

"This is Ms. Chen prior to any G.L.O.V.E. work," Caesar said, impersonating a tour guide. "As you can see, she is doing something… important! Yes, it is probably important, and even at this early stage in her career, you can see how successful she is."

Nero leaned over, looking at Xiu Mei's tablet.

"It looks to me as though she is ordering her lunch," Nero said.

"Sustenance is important," Caesar said sulkily, his puffed up chest now heavily deflated.

"Now she's checking her grades," Nero said, observing the straight line of As running down the page. He wasn't surprised; G.L.O.V.E. only accepted the best of the best into its league.

"Yeah, yeah," Caesar said, still wounded. "Anyway, do you get the point? Aspiring technician on her way to a career?"

"Yes," Nero sighed. "We're going then?"

"Yes."

Their next stop was Xiu Mei's first job at G.L.O.V.E., and, as usual, she was putting her absolute all into it. Caesar gave Nero a basic timeline up to the point where the two first met: the Overlord Project.

"So, we're at the point where you don't exist anymore, if you haven't noticed," Caesar said. Nero nodded. Nero didn't recognize the woman who had been put in charge of the project, which has originally been his job, and the fact that she had taken his power suddenly made him jealous of this woman who was apparently better than he was. There was Wu Zhang, later Mao Fanchu and even later Cypher, and despite the fact that none of his crimes had yet been committed, Nero still felt anger rise inside him as he remembered everything that monster was responsible.

"Aaaaand… Let's scootch this up in time," Caesar said, fiddling with a dial on the side of the telecopter. "This is coming up on the end of the project."

A familiar conversation began to strike up amongst the three of them.

"Yes, ahead of schedule, actually. In fact I think we may almost be ready to bring Overlord online," Xiu Mei smiled.

The woman nodded. Just as Nero remembered it, Zhang cut into the conversation, against bringing Overlord online so soon.

"Are you confident in this?" the leader asked. Zhang nodded.

"It is best to wait," he said. "And be safe."

"Very well," the woman said. "Three or four weeks is not so long to wait, but any later, and my patience will expire. I will return then, and we will see what there is to see."

She left, leaving Xiu Mei looking rather put out.

Nero breathed a sigh of relief. They would live. They had not made his mistake.

"And… Three weeks later," Caesar said, speeding time up once again.

There was Overlord, hovering in the air. Nero held his breath.

"What is your function?" Xiu Mei asked.

"To serve," Overlord said. Nero waited for the next piece of his speech nervously, but it never came. "What do you wish me to do?"

The technicians grinned amongst one another.

"Good thing we waited," Xui Mei smiled. "Weeks ago, this would have been a nightmare."

Nero shook his head. It would not have been a nightmare. It would have been worse.

"Let's get back into the telecopter," Caesar said. "I know this looks great right now, but this isn't the end of it."

Caesar began to fiddle with the controls immediately, Nero looking on curiously.

"Now, we're going to go back to where we were, but without you," Caesar said. "When Wing would be fifteen."

"Would he have been born?" Nero asked.

"For the sake of this, yes," Caesar said. "It's quite possible that he wouldn't have, but here, let me summarize what happened, and then you can ask all those questions that you always have."

He cleared his throat and paused.

And paused.

And paused.

"Caesar!" Nero said sharply.

Caesar cleared his throat again.

"Xiu Mei Chen quickly rose in renown based on her actions, as did Wu Zhang, based on his own. They were both hired often by G.L.O.V.E. for many different types of projects and missions. The two later fell in love while working on another project together, and were married. Several years later, they had Wing, although in this case he would be known as Wing Zhang, as they didn't have to change their names this time around. Unfortunately, they had many enemies based on their work, and died when Wing was aged two. I am not going to show you the part where they die because it involves getting microwaved, which of course resulted in the liquefication of their brains, which I must tell you is not very beautiful and I am not keen to watch it again anytime soon. Wi–"

"Wait!" Nero cut in. "They're dead?"

"That's what I just said," Caesar agreed.

"But…"

"But what?"

"But this is an alternate story! They should be alive!" Nero argued. "Overlord–"

"Wasn't their only problem," Caesar pointed out. "You're in a career where everyone has enemies, and everyone is liable for death at any time."

Nero shifted uncomfortably. He longed to say that it wasn't fair, but he hadn't been in a position to say something like that in a long time.

"So if you're done arguing, I wasn't done yet," Caesar said. Nero nodded for Caesar to go on, sighing.

"Wing, however, lived, and was sent to live with a close family friend," Caesar continued. "Who was in a similar line of work as his parents. He received training. Now we will go visit him."

Nero sourly followed Caesar out of the telecopter, somewhat disappointed with the outcome of this story. The dark sky above seemed to reflect his feelings back at him.

"This is his house," Caesar said, beginning to walk up the drive.

"Then why is he over there?" Nero asked. There was Wing, sliding along the shadows secretly, stealthily as a cat and with the build of a tiger.

"It looks like he's breaking into his house," Caesar said. "Except for this is his… Ohhhh."

Nero came to the same conclusion as Caesar.

Wing was making a robbery.

Immediately, Nero's emotions entered complete turmoil as these facts tried to reconcile themselves within his mind. Wing had always been… Wing. And Wing had been raised by his mother. Now he wasn't Wing, he was entirely different. Nero realized that any memory Wing carried of his mother was in looks alone. He couldn't possibly know her values or teachings or spirit. The Wing Nero had known was a piece of Xiu Mei continuing on after her death. In this world, Xiu Mei was truly dead.

"It gets worse," Caesar said sadly, as Wing left the house, a bundle of loot in his arms. Wing ran up the drive and absorbed the safety of his own home. Caesar made the slightest turn on his dial, and as he did, the sun began to rise, signaling the new day.

"Let's get inside," Caesar said. "This is important."

Wing was coming down the stairs for breakfast. No one was in the kitchen. Wing pulled a note from the fridge.

"Business came up," Wing said mockingly. "Back in three days. Money is you know where."

He tossed the note in the sink and turned on the garbage disposal. He grabbed a banana and stuffed it down his throat before heading outdoors.

"Wing!" a boy from across the street waved. "What's new?"

Wing shrugged.

"I hate it here," he said bitterly. "I hate everything."

The boy did not seemed perturbed.

"You say that every day," he complained. "I asked you what was new!"

Wing shrugged again.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's go find something to kill."

Nero was taken aback. Wing had always respected life, for as long as Nero had known him. To see him throw the idea around of killing something so casually was sobering.

Wing and his friend headed down the street.

"I am not going to watch this anymore," Nero said firmly. "That is _not_ Wing."

"I know, huh?" Caesar agreed. "It's like that kid never smiles. I'm so out of here."

He and Nero climbed in the telecopter.

"Wow," Nero sighed.

"Just goes to show you," Caesar said. "How much you can affect a person."

"It's indirectly," Nero argued.

"And yet weighted enough to make a difference."

Nero sighed, leaning back.

"Last stop?" he asked.

"Second to last," Caesar promised. "And I'll bet you can guess who they are."


	7. Three in One

**Hey guys! Thank you all for the reviews, it means a lot. I also wanted to make you aware: After this chapter, there will only be two or three chapters left in the whole fic! **

**Also, shout out to Scarlet Silverweaver, yes, this story is sort of based off of "It's a Wonderful Life," but not really, since I've never seen that movie. I did actually get the idea from the movie "It's a Meaningful Life," which is a Veggie Tales Parody of IaWL (Veggie Tales is awesome, people). Personally, "It's a Meaningful Life" made a huge impact on me, and somehow it inspired me to write this. And now this is almost done. **

**Disclaimer: I own not most of this.**

For the first time since Nero had known the telecopter, which in reality had not been that long, it was making noise. It wasn't the good kind of noise, like the radio or the sound of the motor purring contentedly. More like the sound of accidentally leaving a spoon in the garbage disposal, or maybe when the car engine refuses to start. Either way, it didn't sound good.

"Problem, Caesar?" Nero asked casually.

"Uhhhhhh…" Caesar said, drawing out the single syllable for an incredibly long time as he stared blankly at the flickering control panel. "Well, uh, yeah, you see, cuz, um, right. You know?" He slowly looked up and down at the problem, almost afraid to touch it.

"Not really, no," Nero replied. "Could you tell me, in English if you don't mind, what exactly is going on?"

"Honestly," Caesar said, his confidence waning. "I have no idea."

"What's the problem?"

"I don't know."

"Well, where are we?" Nero asked, irritated.

"I don't know that either," Caesar replied meekly. "It's just… broken."

Nero sighed.

"So what you're telling me is that we are at an unknown location in time with an unknown problem we may or may not know how to solve."

"Yes."

Nero leaned back in his chair.

"Well, start running diagnostics," he commanded. "Check all the settings, restart the computers. Make it work."

Caesar flashed him an annoyed frown.

"You know," he said, maintaining a level voice. "I could probably get a lot more done alone. Why don't you go take a walk or something?"

"We don't know where we are!" Nero protested. "There could be dinosaurs, or bombers, or something more dangerous out there."

"Gee, Max, dinosaurs?" Caesar said, not looking up from his faulty control station. "I didn't know you were that old."

Nero waited.

"You see, Max," Caesar said after tapping a few keys and twisting a suspicious looking knob. "The telecopter is set to specifically you at this moment. We may be looking at other people's scenarios, but the purpose of this trip is too see what the world would be like without you. Unless things have gone even more haywire than they have already, we're parked somewhere in the middle of your lifespan. As I said, I don't know where. You might be being born, you might be laying on your deathbed, you might be watching TV in your room at H.I.V.E. on a Friday night. I don't know. But you might as well go and check it out."

Nero made his way up out of the seat, then paused.

"How will I know if you're done?" he asked.

Obviously frustrated with another inconvenience, Caesar violently opened the glove box, grabbed something, and shoved it in Nero's general direction. His movements were sloppy, but Nero managed to obtain the small object before it could disappear into an unseen nook or cranny.

"That'll start blinking when I activate it, and I will activate it when I'm done," Caesar said. "Shoo."

Nero smirked at the back of Caesar's head before heading out of the telecopter and into the world. He found himself in a deserted garage. He didn't recognize it. He couldn't help but wonder where he was as he forced open the door and beheld the busy street in front of him. He still didn't recognize where he was. He assumed this was somewhere in the future. Curious, he attempted to locate his future self somewhere on the scene.

But there was nothing. The only sounds he could make out were the cars speeding by, and over that… the sound of children laughing. Nero turned towards the laughter, and searched for its source. There, he saw a rusty old playground, made up of merely a slide, teeter-totter, and swings. Three children played there together, apparently playing climb the mountain on the slide.

Nero walked closer, eventually close enough to take a seat on the swings as he watched them play. He tilted his head. Something was familiar about this place. He couldn't place a finger on it, but he was sure that this had happened in the past.

Slowly, Nero began swinging. He wasn't sure why, it was just something he wanted to do. So he did. Meanwhile, the children played on, apparently taking no notice of the immaculately dressed supervillain trying to touch the sky with his toes.

Nero swung for about fifteen minutes, but as the boys began to speak about something other than the attacking polar bear, he skidded to a stop. For a brief moment, he held concern for the state of his shoes, but flashed back to the present as the children's conversation continued.

"I have to go home," one said. "My mom will get mad if I don't get home before the sun starts going down."

"I should go home too," the sole girl of the trio added. "And so should you, Max."

This gave Nero pause. Now he recognized this. But surely… Surely this couldn't be real?

"Bye!" Max waved as his two friends headed for home. He made no move to go anywhere else himself. Nero watched as the little boy sat down on the swing right next to him, pumping up and down, much like Nero himself had done but a few minutes earlier.

"I'll bet they don't miss me, even," Max said. "They don't care!"

He continued pumping. Nero grimaced as he counted down the seconds to the next rash action of this little boy. 5… 4... 3… 2… 1! Max flew off the swings, tumbling into the pit of gravel below. As many five year olds do when they're hurt, he began to cry. Nero now looked behind him, certain of the next character's entrance. He could remember this part vividly. But no one came.

Nero turned back to the crying boy, blood now covering his scraped knee. Nero hesitated a moment. Caesar had said it wasn't possible. But perhaps he was wrong.

Pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket, Nero knelt next to the boy. Max looked up in terror for a moment, but relaxed as the stranger helped to wipe his knee clean.

"You ought to be more careful," Nero chided, feeling slightly ridiculous giving behavior corrections to himself.

"I was mad," Max said flatly. Nero nodded.

"I know," he said. "Hold this here." Max took the handkerchief from Nero and stared up expectantly.

"Come on," Nero said. "We can have your parents pick you up."

"No," Max said defiantly. "They don't love me."

"Maybe not," Nero said. "But you might as well."

Hesitantly, Max stood and limped after Nero to the nearest payphone. Nero dialed an old phone number, not quite sure how he knew what it was, and handed it to his younger self.

"Remember Max," he said softly. "Remember to be evil."

Max didn't seem to understand what Nero said, and forgot about the stranger as someone on the other end picked up.

Nero disappeared into the shadows. He already knew what happened next. Perhaps he could endure seeing torment again and again, but to watch love lost was too much to ask for. He stayed for a moment, ensuring that the small boy was picked up by a frantic woman whose son seemed to have gone missing for the second time. How little did she know of the adventures her son would go on to have.

"Max?" Caesar said, coming out of the garage. "I gave you the wrong button. Sorry. But anyway, we can go now."

Nero glanced back briefly.

"Then let's get going," Nero said. He hesitated a moment after Caesar had turned into the garage to brush at his eyes. He reassured himself it was just dust before following Caesar back into the telecopter.

"Okay!" Caesar exclaimed. "I really don't know what happened, but I've already visited your deathbed, your birth, and you watching TV in your room on Friday so I'm guessing it's working again! By the way, I had no idea you liked Lord of the Rings so much."

Nero gave Caesar a glare, indicating for him to move on.

"Right," Caesar said, clearing his throat. "We were going to the way things were."

He slammed the button.

Nero had never seen so much pink before. The walls were pink. The carpet was pink. The curtains were pink. The furniture was pink.

"Wow, this is a lot of pink," Caesar noted. Behind him, the door whooshed open, and in came Shelby Trinity. She gave the pinkness of the room a glance, seeming half in love with it and half unimpressed.

"Not the coolest," she sighed, "but worth it."

She dropped her rosy backpack onto the ground and turned on some music. Suspiciously, she glanced over at the door. Then, she quietly tiptoed to her bed and pulled out a shoebox.

Nero leaned over to see what she had been hiding. Many appreciators of fine things in the world would probably have been shocked to know that The Wraith kept her finds in a shoebox under her bed. But the idea was for them not to know, obviously.

"Still safe," Shelby smirked to herself. She replaced the lid on her shoebox. Nero couldn't help but roll his eyes. It was a good thing that they had collected her before such potential went to waste.

Shelby sat in the bed, her designer blue jeans a deep contrast against the pink comforter. She pulled out her laptop.

"C'mere," Caesar said, getting up on the bed behind Shelby so that he might see what she wrote as well.

"Just read me what she's typing," Nero said, not sure if his dignity could manage a blow like squatting on a pink bed behind Shelby Trinity.

"Dear Diary," Caesar read aloud. "Another successful night. If this keeps up, I'll have enough to get out of here by the time I turn 18. I mean, I could get out right now. But I want to go out in style. And I will. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I can bet you that it will be awesome. In other news, I saw Art on the way home. He…" Caesar paused. "Okay, I don't want to read out loud anymore. Do girls really think this stuff?"

"Caesar, you should visit H.I.V.E. sometime," Nero said. "Perhaps it would give you some insight."

"Whatever," Caesar exclaimed. "I don't really care if you've got the picture or not, let's get out of here."

"Agreed."

Shelby's next stop was quite a bit more fabulous than the previous one. Nero hopped up the steps of the grand mansion, which had rather superfluous adornments wherever seemed possible.

"She really has a thing for shiny things," Caesar observed.

"Many do," Nero agreed.

Inside, Nero observed the outlook of the house. He certainly wouldn't have picked this kind of outlook. It seemed far too crammed, and yet empty. There was too much furniture, to be sure. Nero had no idea why any reasonable person would need so many chairs. Obviously, villains could have many guests at one time, but it was not the most prudent of ideas to seat them all in your entry hall at one time. Perhaps not even the living room. And, Nero noted, when one did have guests, having identical seats worked best. Firstly, as such mismatched assortment of armchairs and kitchen chairs and rocking chairs as Shelby did have, it made her look incredibly distasteful to have so many. Secondly, villains were very picky about where they got to sit, as a rule, and were others to receive their preferred chair, the situation could become rather sticky within a matter of minutes. Aside from that, being evil and having A.D.H.D. had no correlation, and Nero could have listed a number of prestigious villains who would either break themselves or the rocking chairs before they got off. This could not only be distracting at a meeting, but dangerous for whichever rocking-chairer flew into whoever else and therefore setting off whatever weapons he or she may have had on at the time. Overall, Nero disapproved.

Then again, Nero realized, Shelby had probably retired from villainy. A number of other judgments flashed through his mind.

"Maybe she's gotten worse," he reflected aloud.

"You think?" Caesar asked, holding up what seemed to be a lace doily with disgust. "She certainly hasn't improved."

"Perhaps we should make that judgment after we see her in person," Nero suggested, although at the moment he was inclined to agree.

As if on cue, a shrill voice upstairs screamed, "GERALD!"

"After you," Caesar said, gesturing to the staircase. Nero wasn't entirely thrilled about the prospect of going up first, but unwilling to give Caesar an excuse to provoke him, he continued up.

Nero had never expected Shelby Trinity of all people to put on that many pounds. For a moment, he wasn't sure he was even looking at Shelby. The thinning blond hair and round, bulbous face didn't seem to match up with the fit, well-groomed Shelby that he knew.

Nor did the massive TV.

This person was nearly three times as wide as she should be. This was very wrong.

Nero could quite recall that when Shelby first joined HIVE she had made a point of using a spoiled brat persona to mask her true self. But, Nero reflected, it was all too easy to turn unbroken habits into lifestyles, which was why he had cracked her shell in the first place. Here was Shelby, never given the benefit of the freedom Nero offered: the freedom to be herself.

Now all she seemed to be was a cavernous dent in the expensive leather couch.

Again, Nero couldn't help but feel the sadness of wasted potential. And the waste of someone who he once knew.

"Gerald!" Shelby called, her voice altered by her weight and choices previously to sound much deeper and sharper than Nero would have expected. "Bring me the TV remote!"

Dutifully, the butler daintily removed the device from the top of the TV with a gloved hand, brushed it off slightly for his lady's use, and handed it to her delicately.

"You can go," Shelby said shortly, turning her attention from her servant. "I'm gonna watch TV."

"I will go prepare dinner, madame," Gerald said. Shelby grinned as the prospect of dinner entered into her otherwise empty head.

"Disgusting," Nero murmured to himself.

"I know what you mean," Caesar said. "Dude, pick up the remote yourself! Gerald has better things to do!"

Nero nodded.

"Her lack of manners is also disconcerting," he added. He, Nero, always remembered to at least attempt a level of politeness when dealing with his subordinates. Obviously he couldn't keep up all the time, but he knew that these were people who had the capability to do much worse than spit in his food before serving it.

And it was always a good idea to ask nicely the first time, anyway.

"Ah, well," Caesar sighed hopelessly. "Such is the life of a famous clothes designer."

"Hm?" Nero gave Caesar a curious glance. In turn, Caesar gestured to a jacket hanging on a chair, with Shelby's obvious scrawl on it. Suddenly the funds for all of this made more sense.

"Aaaaand…" Caesar sighed. "She's still watching TV. I'm going to fast forward this a few hours."

Nero watched as the sun outside increased in its setting patterns, serving as the only judge of time passing. Shelby did not move her eyes from the glass screen once.

Gerald now returned from the kitchen, with what looked suspiciously like a McDonald's cheeseburger and fries in hand, glorified on a fine china plate. Shelby accepted the plate without thanks, and began to inhale her meal.

"I don't understand," Nero said, slightly annoyed. "She can afford better than that."

"She's addicted to food," Caesar shrugged. "Fast food, to be specific. And her lack of companionship only increases the need for something that she wants."

"So she does it with food."

"Why not?" Caesar asked, although he didn't seem to argue with anything Nero said.

"No friends, no life, no talent," Nero said quietly, almost to himself. "This isn't what I want for my people."

Caesar nodded sadly.

"She has no purpose."

They stood there in silence for a while yet, just watching Shelby do her thing, even though she didn't do anything.

"Gerald!" Shelby called when she had finished. Gerald dutifully appeared at the door. "I am finished. I am going to bed."

"Very good, miss," Gerald said, taking her dirty dishes from her. "Do you need any assistance?"

"I'll manage," Shelby grunted, struggling to get up. Gerald waited for her to rise before beginning to brush her crumbs off the couch. Shelby turned.

"MY EYES!" Caesar screamed and collapsed to the floor, and arm shielding his face. "THEY BURN!"

"Shut up, Caesar." Nero rolled his eyes.

Even so, he couldn't help but want to do the same thing. It seemed Shelby wore her own merchandise, and her larger-than-average behind had been decked out with a number of gleaming jewels.

"DUDE!" Caesar shouted. "THERE IS NOTHING THAT WILL IMPROVE THAT PLACE BUT EXERCISE. TAKE THEM OFF!"

"Do you really want to see that either?" Nero commented casually.

Caesar stopped whining as the meaning of his words occurred to him.

"NEVER MIND!" he said, although Shelby couldn't hear him anyway. Nero hid a small smile.

"Okay," Caesar said, taking a breath as Shelby left. "Let's get out of here."

They returned to the telecopter.

"Alright," Caesar said, messing with the controls once more. "One last stop."

Nero felt his heart skip a beat.


	8. Nevermore

**Here we are, second to last chapter! And to all you people who thought I wasn't going to do Raven, like, duh, how could I not? Such an error would be disastrous. A note to all readers, though. I did not intend this to be a Naven fic, but nor did I make it anti-Naven. Read it as you will. But yes, the next chapter shall conclude Nero's ride through time. And, I'm not much of a Raven person, but I tried. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: HIVE is not by my.**

_Max Nero lay on the floor, bleeding. Dying. Darkness shadowed the edges of his vision, his crimson blood sliding from the lacerations torn into his skin and pooling on the cement floor. Nero pushed the agonizing pain from his mind; he didn't want to spend the last few minutes of his life being weak. Death would not hinder him._

_And yet, unconsciousness did._

_It was a pleasant surprise to wake up, until the pain kicked in again. Nero savored the silky sheets soothing his raw skin. He didn't want to wake up. If he woke up in full, they might make him leave._

_"Max," a voice said softly. Obviously, his stirring had not gone unnoticed. Wearily, Nero raised his eyelids, finding himself staring into the eyes of his valued assassin, Natalya. _

_"Ow," he commented, sitting up._

_"It's lucky that you feel at all," Raven said sharply. "You shouldn't have done that."_

_"I know," Nero groaned. His body's protestation at any movement at all alerted him of that. His pride was slightly bruised, even, for her to think that he didn't know that. _

_"Then why did you?" Raven asked, her eyes gleaming with annoyance._

_"Ah," Nero sighed, leaning back into his haven of soft and fluffy. "You've saved my life so many times it only seemed right that I save yours for once."_

_He gave her a wry smile. Raven shook her head disapprovingly, though her expression softened._

_"What am I going to do with you?" she asked no one in particular. _

_"Feed me," Nero said plaintively. "Saving your life all day has really taken it out of me."_

_Even under the circumstances, that was enough to draw a laugh from Raven's throat. Nero contentedly watched Raven leave to find him a snack, his throbbing muscles not enough to deter him from having the day and life he wished to have._

"I've almost got them!" Caesar exclaimed from the back of the telecopter, where he was searching for a pair of parkas.

Nero opened his eyes, the daydream fading.

"That's nice," he said flatly.

"Well you could at least sound excited about it," Caesar retorted. Nero glanced back, Caesar's rear end sticking out of the closet the only visible part of his body. Waiting fifteen minutes to find a parka was not something that would easily excite him.

"Why can't you do that thing when we went to see the Darkdooms?" Nero asked. "You made it so that it was warm for us, while their environment was cool enough for the water in their breath to condense."

"Yeah, well," Caesar grunted, attempting to get himself unstuck from his trunk. "There wasn't any snow there. Here there is snow. For you, standing ankle deep in snow and yet feeling completely comfortable will implode your brain because the world will cease to make sense."

"Is that so?"

Caesar didn't reply, leaving Nero wondering if he was being serious or not.

"Got 'em!" Caesar said proudly, holding up his articles. Nero gave Caesar the most unimpressed look he could possibly have mustered. Dejectedly, Caesar tossed Nero a parka, swinging on his own.

"C'mon," he said. "You don't want to miss this."

"Would you like to bet on that?" Nero thought to himself.

Wearily, he dragged himself out of the telecopter, where he found himself standing outside, even feeling cold as he looked around at the snow. Everything was calm.

That is, it was on the surface. Nero realized that he could see two young figures joining him up on what was turning out to be a roof.

"Come on," one whispered. Even though she was several years younger than she had ever been when Nero had known her, he could tell that this was Natalya. "This could be our chance to get out of here."

"Okay, but I must be crazy," her companion said. Nero didn't know his name, but he could remember Natalya briefly mentioning this boy before. This was apparently not a night Raven enjoyed remembering.

"After two years in this place I think crazy is actually pretty normal," Natalya replied. She and her friend crept along the moonlit roof, looking down into the courtyard. Nero observed her, rather than her own subject of interest. Even at this young age, he could see that she was talented yet he still worried as he saw some simple flaws in her escape plan.

"What now?" her friend asked.

"We need to…" Natalya said, suddenly breaking off. She gasped. "Dimitri!" Nero refocused his attention to the courtyard, where a figure laden with several packs sprinted through the snow.

"What's he doing?" her friend wondered aloud. In reply, Natalya murmured, too faint for Nero to hear.

Nero recognized two figures emerging from the Glasshouse: Anastasia and Pietor Furan.

"Oh no," Natalya's friend murmured. Pietor Furan had no trouble beating Dimitri up a bit before Anastasia looked Natalya straight in the eye and shot the boy.

"Nooooo!" Natalya screamed, watching as Dimitri fell into the snow, dead. Immediately, she assumed the fetal position then and there. Crying, her friend attempted to rouse her, but to no avail. The two were hauled down in front of Anastasia and Pietor. Nero looked on disapprovingly.

"What a terrible waste of a bullet," Anastasia said mockingly.

As Nero knew the story, Raven could only remember being insanely angry at this point. Now, as Nero watched, it seemed as though Natalya had given up. She limply moved around like a puppet under Anastasia's control.

"Leave me alone," she muttered, trying to fall back into the snow. As she only wore pajamas, it seemed as though that would not play out well for her.

"Come now, Natalya," Anastasia said, steel in her voice. She addressed the guards. "Take her to the detention facility."

"I won't go!" Natalya exclaimed suddenly. Moving with a spectacular speed, she disarmed a guard, and before Nero even had time to move, she had put a bullet into her brain.

Nero stood in silence, completely shocked. Raven had never been entirely honest with him about what had happened this night, but he had always known that when Anastasia had taken Raven, she had made big plans for the girl.

This seemed wrong.

"That can't be," he said, unable to control his disbelief. Raven had always defied death. It seemed wrong that she would go so far as to bring it upon herself. "That…" he faltered.

"Eh," Caesar shrugged. "If you want we could go back, and Anastasia could shoot her instead."

Nero gave him a severe look.

"What?" he demanded, shouting. "You think I want to watch it again? What's wrong with you?"

Caesar's expression softened, and he dropped the stupid teenager act.

"Look, Max," he said quietly. "A million different things might have happened tonight. Maybe once Anastasia had intended to destroy you with Raven. This time she didn't."

"But Raven…"

"Raven is just like the rest of us mortals," Caesar said. "And even if she lived tonight, a number of other things could have happened. She could have been broken by the solitude as her friend Tolya was, she could have been killed during training. I don't suppose you have an even figure of the number of times she could have died while saving your life."

"It's not that she's evaded death so many times," Nero said. "It's that she's never acted like that. Ever."

"Perhaps," Caesar shrugged. "But when you first met her, she was a long way from where she is now, yes? Maybe this time the event is unlikely. But maybe if you hadn't been there, she wouldn't have met a fate any better. Perhaps this death saved her from the life ahead where you weren't there."

Nero was quiet. Caesar looked on carefully. It was clear that out of all of the events, this was one of the scenarios that hit him hardest.

"What are you thinking about?" Caesar asked.

"I want to go home," Nero said, a hint of bitterness flavoring his frigid voice. "I want to go home now."

"That's nice," Caesar said. Nero glared at Caesar. "Hey! You're not real. Remember. I told you that."

"Well I want to be real again," Nero grumbled, collapsing into the snow as utter despair consumed him. Caesar took a seat next to him.

"I'm sure you do."

"Caesar!" Nero barked. He breathed heavily, suddenly angry at the teen boy who seemed to ignore his authority. "Why don't you listen to me?"

"I am listening, Max," Caesar replied calmly. "You already know what you need to do to get home. You're the one who hasn't been listening."

Nero stared at Caesar for a matter of time. He copied Caesar and plopped into the snow, staring at the clear sky above.

"Amazing how many stars you can see," Caesar said. "And even then, there are billions more we can't even see."

Nero grunted agreement, although he couldn't see how this was at all relevant.

"But even though they're far away, and all have vast differences, they're still part of the same universe," Caesar continued. "And without even one of those stars, the entire universe can be impacted."

"I never realized," Nero said softly. "What a difference one man can make."

"And a difference," Caesar said, "that I hope you will continue to develop."

Nero scoffed.

"I'm stuck here, remember?"

"No," Caesar said. "You're just not remembering. You only need to say the magic words."

"You mean… I can go back?" Nero asked, his hope rising.

"If you want to," Caesar smiled knowingly.

"But I do want to," Nero said. Suddenly, something dawned on him. "I can get back by wishing, can't I?"

"As said, I'm Caesar and I grant wishes."

"I wish that I could go home," Nero said.

"Wish granted," Caesar grinned.

"To the helicopter," Nero commanded.

"No," Caesar stopped Nero. "I was thinking we'd do this the old fashioned way, just this once."

"Old fashioned way?"

"You never do give up with the questions, do you?" Caesar rolled his eyes. "Watch."

He snapped. At first it seemed as though nothing had happened, but after a few moments, a purple mist appeared, swirling in a circle and dissipating the image of Natalya's lifeless body sprawled in the snow. Suddenly, Nero found himself standing on nothing and everything.

"The travel through the time tunnel has begun," Caesar announced. Nero closed his eyes. He had never been fond of roller coasters, and that seemed to be a rather decent description of the time tunnel.

"Don't you dare close your eyes, Max," Caesar said sharply. "Look around. I swear, you won't regret it."

Nero hesitantly opened his eyes, fully prepared to snap them shut again. Instead, they grew wider as the things he saw registered in his mind.

There they were—everyone. Otto Malpense, Laura Brand, Shelby Trinity, Wing Fanchu, Franz Argentblum, Nigel and Diabolus Darkdoom, and Raven. His eyes struggled to keep up with the rapidly changing images, as the children were shown working together, as a team, then suddenly growing older, and graduating from H.I.V.E. Just as quickly, they morphed into adults, making their way as the most feared villains of the future, with power and leadership never before seen. The sound of gunshots mingled with the sound of music, wedding bells blended with a funeral march. The lives of his students and friends appeared all around him, and Nero was overwhelmed by the beauty and terror of the possible futures laying ahead for his students.

Nero paused to watch a scene unfolding to his left. Otto Malpense sat, working at what was presumably his desk. In the distance, there was a scream and a crash, and immediately Otto was out the door to find what the clatter might have been. As he turned the corner, he fell to his knees as a small, red-haired child seemed to have tripped and fallen, cutting her head open. Immediately, he began to tend the wound, gently scolding her for her lack of wariness.

Before Nero could see what happened next, the scene was whisked away to be replaced by a scene of what appeared to be Nigel Darkdoom and Franz Argentblum playing checkers with one another, both at least in their eighties. Nero smiled as he realized that neither could tell which pieces were there's, making it a checker's free for all, it seemed.

Yet before the winner of the match was decided, a new scene of unfolded. What looked like Shelby Trinity, wearing a white dress, was walking down a long aisle, her eyes focused on the other end of the room, where an unmistakable Wing was waiting for her. As they exchanged their vows and kissed, their future was replaced.

Laura, situated in a H.I.V.E. cell, was typing away at a computer, a broad grin on her face. Nero couldn't see what she was doing, but he had no doubt that she was changing the world one keystroke as a time.

Again came Nigel, showing his dad his latest marvelous monstrosity.

Shelby reappeared, sliding the Declaration of Independence up her sleeve.

There was Franz, pigging out, as usual. And also stealing all of the World Bank's Funds.

The purple mist began to fade, and Caesar took them out of the tunnel. Awestruck, Nero looked around. He was back in his room.

"It's been fun, Max," Caesar said, winking. "See you around."

"Caesar!" Nero called out, before his guide could re-enter the time tunnel. "Thanks. For everything."

"No problem," Caesar smiled. The purple mist absorbed him, and in a moment, he was gone.

Nero looked around the room, tension fading from his body. He walked towards the couch.

Then he collapsed.


	9. Maximilian, Villain

**Drum roll please! As demanded, here is the epic finale to **_**If I Never Knew You**_**! Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! Writing this has been a lot of fun, and I hope you enjoy the last bit I have for you. I would also like you to know that I spelled fluorescent right without looking it up. And also now I can get rid of the scrap of cardboard from a tissue box that I have written the ending to this story on. But anyway, read!**

**Disclaimer: Mostly Mark Walden's.**

Nero groaned. His head ached ever so slightly, and vivid images of a dream he'd only just had flashed through his mind. But no… It hadn't been a dream.

Nero's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the realization that he couldn't breathe. Wearily lifting his eyelids, realizing that somebody had a rather firm grip around his neck.

"Hello Natalya," he said. "What time is it?"

"Around three," Raven said shortly, releasing her grip on Nero. He sat up, finding himself on the floor of his quarters. "What happened?"

Brief images of a hooded teen with a purple telecopter flashed through Nero's mind.

"I don't know," Nero replied. "I'm not entirely sure why you're here, actually. Did I call for you?"

"No," Raven said. "I was coming to do a bit of revenge for the pen trick you pulled earlier, but it seemed as though you beat me to it."

Nero shrugged. He glanced at the box of pencils on the floor beside Raven.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" Nero asked suspiciously.

"I figured that sticking them up your nose would teach you a lesson," Raven replied nonchalantly.

"All of them?" Nero gaped, half tempted to clap a hand over his nose. Raven made a gesture of indifference.

"As many as would have fit, I suppose," she replied. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Did I say I was?" Nero asked, rising and taking a seat in a nearby armchair. As he moved about, a small object fell from his jacket pocket. Before he could grab it, Raven's lightning reflexes whisked the object away.

"What's this?" Raven asked. She flipped what appeared to be a business card of sorts around in her fingers, curiously discovering what this might reveal about her employer.

"Let me see," Nero said sharply. Reluctantly, she handed it over.

It was a fluorescent purple, almost difficult to look at. On the one side, it appeared blank, until Nero shifted his fingers ever so slightly, and an embossed design appeared, glimmering in a silvery, sparkly fashion. After a few passes under the light, Nero realized that it was the design of the telecopter. Flipping the card over, a similar event occurred, but with a golden sheen.

"Maximilian Nero," Nero whispered to himself. "Headmaster of H.I.V.E. Do not forget. –Caesar."

Raven raised an eyebrow.

"Max?" she asked, slightly befuddled.

Nero shook his head.

"It's nothing, Natalya. Really." He tucked the card into his breast pocket. He looked straight at Raven. "Unless you're going to attack me with your stash of writing utensils, I think I will go rest. This entire business has worn me out."

Raven nodded, still hesitant to leave Nero after the state she had found him in. She left. Nero, now satisfied that he was alone, did not sleep. He pulled out the card once again, reflecting on the entire events of the night, and thinking about who exactly he wanted Max Nero to be.

The next day, the students noticed the renewed vigor and excitement that had developed within their headmaster overnight. Certainly he was no less because of it, and yet, no more. As he completed his lesson and released his students for time to work quietly in groups, the group made up of Shelby Trinity, Otto Malpense, Laura Brand, Wing Fanchu, Nigel Darkdoom, and Franz Argentblum contemplated what might have happened to result in this… change.

"Did you see the way he looked at us?" Laura asked, furtively glancing over at Dr. Nero.

"It was looking half like he was wanting to be giving us detentions with Colonel Francisco until we are leaving H.I.V.E.," Franz commented. "And half like he was being very proud of us."

"Do you think we're in trouble?" Shelby asked. "Has anyone done anything lately?" Around the table, there was a common dissent to the question.

"Not since that incident with the polar bears," Nigel shook his head. "Remember?"

"Oh yeah…"

"Still," Wing said, the gravity of his voice pulling the conversation back to its original course. "It makes you wonder what he's thinking."

_About you, of course. _

Once again, Nero was given the opportunity to eavesdrop on his students as they seemed to forget that Nero had eyes and ears as soon as he took a seat behind his desk. He knew he should be working, but thinking about the classroom he conducted, the students sitting in it, felt differently after his escapade with Caesar. These children had potential, he had always known that.

But now it occurred to him that in part, this potential was being influenced by him. Although he had thought many of these thoughts when he had first founded H.I.V.E., they redawned upon him, almost as if they were completely new to him.

He had to resist smiling whenever he looked over at the table with his most famous, albeit danger-prone, students. They would go far.

The bell rang, and Nero returned to the headmaster's office. Back to work again. But Nero didn't mind. It was simply what he did. Before setting to it, he gently brushed Caesar's business card with the tips of his fingers, where he had placed it on his computer. He read the words again:

_Maximilian Nero, Headmaster of H.I.V.E. Do not forget. –Caesar_

Maximilian Nero.

_That was him._

Headmaster of H.I.V.E.

_Still, yes. It was simply who he was._

Do not forget.

_He wouldn't._

"Yes, Caesar. I am," Nero said, somehow sure that the odd teen he had met could hear him. "And I'll stay that way. Thank you."

Nero, pushing away his blessed fantasies, turned his eyes to the computer screen. Once upon a time, he might have done it grudgingly. Now, no. He was a teacher. He was a villain. He was Max Nero, and this is what Max Nero did.

He continued to do so for many years. His future was always uncertain, but he accepted it with relish, knowing who he was and what he would do, faithfully making a difference ever after.


End file.
